


Miraculous Magic: Year One

by spetember



Series: Miraculous Magic [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-04 15:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 53,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spetember/pseuds/spetember
Summary: When the wizarding world was ruled with chaos and terror by the powerful Dark wizard Hawkmoth, two Chosen Ones were prophesied: the lucky ladybug and the unlucky black cat, the wielders of the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous. It was said that they would save the wizarding world and defeat Hawkmoth once and for all. The black cat’s name was Adrien Agreste, known by all as the Boy Who Lived. And the ladybug’s name, of course, was Marinette.





	1. The Magic Begins

 

**Prologue**

Hawkmoth was once the most feared Dark wizard of all time, who terrorised the wizarding world in order to gain supreme ultimate power so as to keep the magical bloodlines pure. In order to do so, he would need the combined powers of magical artefacts called the Miraculous, one of which he already owned. With that amount of power, he wanted to rid the world of every single person with even a spot of Muggle blood in their veins.

His very name inspired so much terror in every witch and wizard that people started referring to him as “You-Know-Who” or “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” making the mere act of speaking his name a taboo.

To this day, his true identity remains a mystery.

In a prophecy that belonged to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Great Guardian Fu, two Chosen Ones were promised: the lucky ladybug and the unlucky black cat, the wielders of the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous. They would save the wizarding world and defeat Hawkmoth once and for all, restoring peace to all in a time of chaos. Hawkmoth stole the prophecy, but a team of Aurors managed to retrieve it before he heard it all, so he only heard of one Chosen One: the black cat with the ability to destroy anything with a single touch.

The black cat’s name was Adrien Agreste.

Emilie Agreste, a famed Auror, fought Hawkmoth in order to protect her son, but that battle was tragically to be her last. The Dark wizard himself disappeared when he tried and failed to murder the boy with the Killing Curse. People rejoiced, and dubbed the young child the Boy Who Lived; all was well.

Hawkmoth was never seen again.

Nobody except for Headmaster Fu knew of the lucky ladybug, the second Chosen One with the power of luck that would aid her in a time of need — but only when she wore the Ladybug Miraculous and uttered the incantation: “Felix Leporem.” With her unlucky counterpart, the black cat with the power of the Cat Miraculous, the two were destined to save the wizarding world.

The ladybug’s name, of course, was Marinette.

*

*

*

**Chapter One: The Magic Begins**

The day Marinette had received her acceptance letter, you couldn’t have found a more anxious or happy girl if you tried. The eleven-year-old spent all day in a limbo of emotions, not quite sure what to feel.

She was, at first, confused and slightly baffled; the idea that this was some sort of practical joke had run through her mind several times. (She only briefly questioned how the letter had appeared on her bedside table, and decided to question it no further for fear she would drive herself crazy.) It was especially difficult to explain it all to Tom and Sabine, who, while as supportive as ever, couldn’t help but look sceptical. She couldn’t blame them; Marinette herself hadn’t ever heard of “Hogwarts” or any school that taught wizardry or witchcraft, but something inside her deeply hoped — _prayed,_ even — that it wasn’t some elaborate prank. After all, the wax seal on the letter _did_ look official. And how else would they know her room was in the attic?

At the end of the day, when she helped her parents close up the bakery for the night, her brow seemed permanently creased from worry and her lower lip was threatening to bruise from being abused by her teeth. It was only after dinner, when the family sat around the dinner table, that the mood seemed appropriate enough to discuss the matter at hand. Marinette wrung her hands in her lap, looking up at her parents, who had just reread the letter several times and seemed to accept it better than before.

“I always knew our daughter was special,” Tom boasted, chuckling as Marinette blushed deep red. Sabine set down a tray of teacups and a pot of steaming hot tea. “Just not quite _this_ special,” he added.

“Papa, I’m sure I’m not the only girl who got this letter…” Marinette mumbled. Before she could say anything else, however, the family were startled by the loud roar of a fire that made Marinette jump two feet in the air, nearly knocking her teacup over. Was it the fireplace? Was it an oven? Had they left something in? They needed to call the fire department! There could be a—

“You stay here, Marinette,” her mother whispered urgently as her father armed himself with a rolling pin. It was deemed unnecessary, however, when a woman with cherry-red hair and impossibly deep eyes appeared from the doorway connecting the house to the bakery. The first thing Marinette noticed was that she wore peculiar crimson robes, and that she was hastily dusting them.

“Oh, good evening! I do hope I haven’t startled you,” she said good-naturedly when she’d finished dusting herself off.

“Err — good evening,” Sabine replied, perplexed. “Do you need a, ah, tissue or a, err…?”

The woman shook her head with a grateful smile. “Oh, no, thank you! This always happens when a fireplace gets used for the first time,” she sighed, picking a speck of lint off her elbow.

“Fireplace?” Marinette asked cautiously, in awe of the strange woman before them. She noticed from the corner of her eye that Tom was quickly putting away the rolling pin.

“Yes, dear,” the woman affirmed. “The fireplace. It is a common method of transportation — we call it the Floo Network. Don’t worry,” she added quickly, “I’ve only connected your fireplace temporarily so that I may test it out to see if it works. It does, fortunately! But we can talk about connecting it permanently later; I’m here to speak to Marinette. Would that be you, dear?”

Marinette glanced at her parents, who were shocked, and then nodded mutely.

The woman clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! I assume you’ve received our letter. I was supposed to give you the letter myself, but I’ve had to visit so many Muggle-born students today that it was quite impossible.”

“Muggle-born…?” Marinette asked, growing increasingly more confused.

The woman nodded. “Yes — a Muggle is a non-magical person. You, however, are a witch, Marinette.”

The girl in question nodded. “I… Yes, I read it in the letter.” She noticed a glinting golden brooch of a lion in full roar pinned on the woman’s robes. “Err… I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”

The woman stopped, as if mentally backtracking their conversation, and became instantly embarrassed. “Oh, goodness, I haven’t even introduced myself! Merlin’s beard, how rude of me! I am Professor Tikki, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor House,” she said, tapping the brooch on her breast as if that explained it. “I also teach Charms, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Marinette nodded, processing this information as best as she could. “So — why are you here?” she questioned.

“I’m here to give you this!” Professor Tikki produced a slip of parchment and handed it to Marinette. “Professor Plagg was in charge of distributing the Muggle-born letters this year and he completely forgot to include this. It’s been a long day,” she said with a sigh.

Marinette opened it up to reveal a list of supplies, written in the same emerald-green ink as her letter. She read: “First year required books: _History of Magic_ by Mathilda Bagshot, _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling…” Marinette quickly skimmed over the rest of the list; it ranged from uniform and books to a cauldron and a wand.

A _wand!_

She eagerly turned to her parents, holding the list up for them to see. “Mama, Papa, look! A _magic wand!_ ”

Professor Tikki smiled. “Yes, Marinette! And tomorrow I will be escorting you to Diagon Alley, where you can buy all the supplies you need to become a real witch. Your parents will be able to exchange Muggle money into wizarding currency at Gringotts Bank, as well.”

Marinette gazed at the list in amazement as she listened to the professor’s words, trying to imagine owning each item. She felt her chest brim with excitement. Instantly she turned to her parents, bouncing on the balls of her feet, all anxiety and nervousness forgotten.

“Can we visit it tomorrow?” she asked eagerly. Her parents gave each other a look, before nodding once.

“Of course!” Sabine met her daughter’s gaze with a soft smile. “Your father can watch the bakery while we’re away.”

“Oh, Mama, thank you!” Marinette leaped into her parents’ arms. They embraced her tightly, knowing there was no going back now.

“Marinette, we’re so proud of you,” her father said as they broke away.

“I’m sure you’re going to make a wonderful witch,” Sabine agreed, the word sounding strange on her tongue. It was clear they were both still processing this.

“That’s the spirit!” Professor Tikki chirped. “Well, I’ll be off, then; I must visit a certain Nathaniel Kurtzberg next… I will see you all tomorrow at nine sharp!” With that, as well as a hasty promise to disconnect the fireplace — the Floo Network, was it? — Professor Tikki disappeared in a roar of green flames, leaving a stunned family behind.

*

*

*

The next morning, after Professor Tikki had taken Marinette and her mother to Diagon Alley by Floo Network — a system that Sabine immediately swore off after having been engulfed by green flames, despite having agreed to connect their fireplace permanently — and they had paid a visit to Gringotts to exchange quite a bit of money into Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts, Sabine had had enough of the wizarding world for one day, but also a strong longing to see more. Marinette’s wonder-filled expression as she marvelled at flying broomsticks and bubbling cauldrons made all of it worth it, despite the surreal feeling that washed over Sabine when she saw a shop that sold beautification potions or levitating quills. It was all still quite new, and she knew it showed.

They had joined a group of a dozen or so children with their parents — all Muggle-born, Professor Tikki had explained — and were being accompanied by Professor Tikki and Professor Wayzz, who introduced himself as the Herbology Professor and the Head of Ravenclaw House, tapping the bronze brooch of an eagle on his cloak. The two professors had briefly described the Houses to the students, but Sabine had already quite forgotten everything they had told her. There was one with an iguana, wasn’t there? Or a chameleon? Or was it a dragon…?

With her arms full of bags — several uniform robes, a pointy hat, all the required First Year books, and a pewtercauldron, as well as various other magical items that Sabine couldn’t begin to explain — the group reached a store that looked considerably older than the rest. The window read: _Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._

 _My word,_ Sabine thought, paling visibly.

One by one, the group shuffled in, followed by the two professors. Marinette clung to her mother’s arm as an lanky old man with a grey beard and a kind smile welcomed them.

“Welcome, all!” he said warmly. “Now, who would like to go first?”

That was another thing Sabine couldn’t comprehend: the process that came with selecting the wand. What had Ollivander said? “The wand chooses the wizard”? It was all quite bizarre, but she daren’t say so out loud; not after the way Marinette beamed after her wand had glowed, effectively choosing her.

“Ah! That,” Ollivander said, “is cypress, ten and three-quarter inches, with phoenix feather at the core…” He stopped then, his expression turning from delighted to almost sympathetic. “That means you’ll do quite a few heroic deeds in the future, my dear,” he added in a whisper so that only she may hear. “Curiously, though: the phoenix that gave this feather gave _one_ other… The sibling wand — it belongs to — well, to none other than the Boy Who Lived! His wand was yew, eleven inches, it was. If ever you meet him, my child, you will do great things together — I am sure of it.” He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, before he moved back to the counter, ready for the next eager student.

Sabine blinked and swallowed hard. Was it possible to be any more worried than she currently was? She glanced at her daughter; Marinette looked equal parts excited and frightened. When she whispered, “Who’s the Boy Who Lived?” and her mother was unable to answer, her frown deepened. It was all quite concerning. Sabine couldn’t deny, though, that the wand had undeniably chosen her daughter.

“It’s all becoming very real at the moment,” she sighed to herself. Marinette gave her a questioning look, but was quickly distracted by a display of owls and cats on the opposite side of the street.

“Mama! _Look!_ ” She gazed, love-struck, at a black cat who was grooming itself lazily by the window. It blinked at Marinette before it yawned and wandered off into the store. Marinette gave her mother a pleading look, but Sabine shook her head apologetically.

“Your father is allergic to cats, sweetie; you know this.” She hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “Perhaps we could get you an owl? Professor Wayzz told me they’re used for bringing letters. You could write to us while you’re at school.”

Marinette gave a large barn owl in the window a quick glance, before biting her lip and shaking her head. “They’re…a bit scary,” she admitted. Sabine nodded in understanding, secretly a little bit relieved.

When they had gotten everything on the list, Professor Wayzz and Professor Tikki escorted the group to André’s Ice Cream Parlour, where Sabine decided to take a seat with the rest of the parents while Marinette picked a flavour.

The young witch approached the counter, eyeballing some of the stranger flavours — what on earth was butterbeer, and why was there a pumpkin flavour? — and ultimately decided on mint chocolate. She was about to order from the nice-looking man at the counter when she tripped over her own feet and fell right into another First Year. She luckily didn’t drag him down with her as she fell at his feet, and managed to break her fall by stretching her arms out in front of her. She looked up at the boy. He had flaming red hair and a shy look, and immediately helped her back up.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked. “I didn’t mean to bump into you!”

“Oh, n-no!” the boy said. “It’s alright! Don’t worry!” He waited for an awkward moment as she dusted herself off. “Here, um, y-you can go first,” he offered, motioning to the counter.

Marinette shook her head. “No, no! You were here first. And I fell into you!”

“No, it’s alright, go a-ahead—”

“No, no, _you_ go—”

This went on for a few seconds before Marinette insisted she hadn’t made up her mind yet, and the boy hesitantly got a scoop of toffee-apple. She pretended to think before ordering a scoop of mint chocolate, and smiled at the boy beside her when they’d both gotten their treats.

After a few moments of silence, he shyly looked up. “It’s… It’s all a b-bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“The ice cream?” Marinette asked, confused. She stared at his cone, then at her own. “I… I suppose? It’s very…minty.”

That made the boy laugh. It took Marinette by surprise, but she couldn’t help but smile. “No, I mean…all of this! Diagon Alley, flying brooms, magic wands… We’re going to a magic school!”

“Oh!” When she understood what he’d meant, Marinette nodded fiercely. “Oh, yes, I can barely believe it! Until Professor Tikki visited us at home, I had no idea what I was in for. I thought it was all a practical joke for a while.”

“Really? Me too!” The boy laughed again. “I’m — I’m Nathaniel, by the way.”

“I’m Marinette,” she said, smiling. “Should we go sit with our parents? I’m sure they’re as overwhelmed as we are.”

Nathaniel agreed, and Marinette felt giddy as she joined her mother and Nathaniel’s father, who had hair as red as his son’s. This was all getting better and better!

After another hour or so of touring Diagon Alley, and after several mandatory stops to all the sweet shops, Professor Tikki gathered the group and presented each student with a train ticket.

“The Hogwarts Express departs on the first of September at eleven o’clock sharp, so don’t be late!” she reminded them. “Keep your ticket safe, and always remember to—”

Marinette zoned the professor out as she studied her ticket, then whispered harshly to Nathaniel, “Does this say Platform Nine and _Three-Quarters?_ ”

Nathaniel looked at his own ticket, then nodded in both amazement and confusion. “But how could there possibly be a Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?”

Marinette’s brow furrowed. “I have no—”

“My dears! I was just about to explain that,” Professor Tikki interrupted, giving them a stern look followed by an amused smile. “When you arrive at King’s Cross Station, you must simply stand between Platforms Nine and Ten. Then, walk directly into…”

Marinette listened in awe as Professor Tikki explained the apparently painless process of arriving at the platform, and vowed that she wouldn’t hesitate to walk through the wall when the time came. When Professor Tikki had finished, she escorted them all to a public fireplace for them to go home, and Marinette waved goodbye to Nathaniel when she stepped into the fireplace, not even blinking so that she may remember what this wondrous place looked like forever. Then, with a burst of green flames, she was home with a wide smile and a pocketful of Fizzing Whizbees.

“Mama, I’m going to my room! I’ve got so many ideas for new designs now! I was thinking a hat — a pointy hat, like mine! — but with a plume and — and what if it changed colours? Oh, I’ve got to write this down!” She rushed upstairs, her mind buzzing with new ideas. She hadn’t had this much inspiration in months!

“She’s really enjoying this,” Tom said as Sabine put all the bags in the kitchen. He looked both proud and sad, which Sabine understood perfectly.

“You should have seen her today,” Sabine told him. “I think she’s found where she belongs.”

Tom gave his wife a watery smile. “Well, we always knew our girl was special,” he said, and sat his wife down next to him. “Now, tell me everything that’s happened. I want to hear all about this Diagonal Alley and how the Gloo Network works…”

*

*

*

September first came all too soon, but Marinette was more than ready. She had packed her bags more than a month ago, and even hand-sewn her name into all her robes and cloaks in gold thread. She had also made herself an entirely new hat: it was a deep purple, with gold stars stitched into it. She had used a thin gold overlay so that when she moved, the gold sparkled in the light. She was very proud of it, and instantly made the decision to wear it forever. She’d also filled half her sketchbook with ideas on how to create even bolder, more magical items, like a clutch that had a hidden compartment just for your wand, or earrings that changed colour whenever you said the magic word—

Well, first she’d have to find out if there was even such a spell. But that would come in due time. For now, she was still brimming with ideas and new-found inspiration.

Of course, she had mentally prepared for school as well. She had started on each of her school books, and found History of Magic the most interesting subject so far. Who knew that Merlin was real? And could you imagine goblin revolts? It seemed too good to be true!

However, once she’d actually boarded the train — after a rather comical mishap at the station, where she mistakenly walked into the wall between Platform Ten and Eleven — and said goodbye to her parents, the reality that she would be away — for a whole term! — sunk in. She was still excited, of course! Still excited, but…toned down quite a bit.

As she walked along the train, trying to find an empty compartment — or one with people who looked friendly enough — she found two other First Years, judging by the lack of House colours on their uniform. She hesitantly opened the door and slipped inside, giving both of them a shy smile.

“Err… Hi! I’m Marinette,” she introduced herself. “Do you mind if I sit?”

One of them — a dark girl with red hair who sported white sneakers under her uniform — smiled wide. “Go ahead! I’m Alya. Come, sit by me — don’t sit next to Nino.”

Marinette grinned and sat as the boy — Nino — shot up. 

“Hey!” Nino exclaimed. “Is it because I said you wouldn’t get into Gryffindor?”

“You’re just jealous,” Alya fired back, “because I’m _obviously_ braver than you. You haven’t got a smudge of chivalry or honour in you at all!”

“Gryffindor,” Marinette repeated, “as in, Professor Tikki’s House?” She leaned against the seat, feeling the train rattling beneath them as it moved.

“Oh, yeah! You know Professor Tikki? She’s amazing! She’s so powerful, and I _love_ her hair,” Alya gushed. She was leaning against the window, her long legs taking up most of the legroom, but Marinette didn’t mind. “But Mr Know-It-All over there seems to think that I’m not cut out for her House — since my dad was a Ravenclaw and my mum is a Muggle and all — but I disagree. I think _he_ won’t make it into Hufflepuff.”

Nino smirked and crossed his arms. “I’m basically _guaranteed_ a spot in Hufflepuff, Alya,” he said smugly. “I'm a badger through and through. My entire family has been a Puff for as long as anyone can remember.”

“Well, he's been an idiot for as long as anyone can remember,” said Alya under her breath, and Marinette held back a giggle, though she was having trouble following the conversation. She bit her lip so as not to burst out laughing, and met Alya’s eyes. The redhead gave her a newly familiar smile. “So, what House are you hoping to get in?”

Marinette wanted to match her excitement, but didn’t know quite what to answer. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m, uh — well my parents are both Muggles, so I don’t—”

“Oh!” Alya exclaimed. “That explains it! Well, don’t worry. It honestly doesn’t matter as much as we make it out to.”

Nino gasped. “Alya, of _course_ it does—”

Alya shut him up with a stern look. “It _doesn’t,_ ” she repeated. “What _really_ matters,” she said, eyes sparkling, “is all the secret passageways and hidden rooms that Hogwarts has! My dad wrote me a list of all the ones he discovered back in the day. There’s one on the second floor behind a portrait of a lady in a blue dress that leads to a stairway all the way into the Restricted Section of the library, and there’s another one that—” She continued to describe various hidden rooms around the castle, and Marinette listened intently, growing more and more eager to explore the school with each passing moment. When Alya was about to dive into a story about a room full of Chocolate Frogs, she was interrupted by the door of the compartment opening. Marinette looked up and immediately grinned.

“Nathaniel!” she exclaimed. “Hi! Come in!” she offered, quickly glancing at Alya to make sure it was alright. Alya only nodded and smiled politely at the newcomer.

“Hey! I’m Alya,” she said. “That loser is Nino.” She pointed at said loser, who was now deep in sleep with a heavy-looking, multicoloured pair of headphones blasting music into his ears.

“I’m — I’m Nathaniel,” said the red-haired boy, giving Alya a small smile. “Were you s-saying something about Chocolate Frogs? I b-bought one and — well, it escaped — but I got a card with Jagged Stone on it! I had no idea he w-was a wizard!”

“Jagged Stone?” Marinette repeated, eyes wide. She was genuinely amazed; she considered herself one of his biggest fans. How had she not known that he could do _magic?_

Alya nodded, confirming the fact. “Yep! He’s one of the only wizard musicians who made it big in the Muggle world. There’s also bands like The Weird Sisters — they’re great — but not so well known by Muggles. My parents are obsessed with this one singer, Celestina Warbeck. Real mushy romance stuff.”

Marinette brushed her bangs out of her eyes, cracking a smile. “Is that what he’s listening to, d’you think?” she suggested, pointing at a drooling Nino whose headphones had started to slip. Alya burst out laughing and leaned over to adjust them.

Throughout the rest of the ride — where they had a heated discussion on what Jagged Stone’s best album was, as well as a debate about the best House, and a visit from a lady with a trolley full of candy, after which Alya tried to throw Every Flavour Beans into Nino’s mouth and missed — Marinette forgot all about her homesickness. She hadn’t even thought of her parents again until she remembered the macarons her father had made for her to share, and she smiled in amusement as Alya hastily picked out all the chocolate ones for herself, while Nathaniel seemed to prefer the fruity flavours. (She had also saved a few for when Nino woke up, and he gave a grateful grin as he munched on a strawberry-flavoured treat.)

As they neared their destination, the train still rattling beneath them, Marinette could only look forward to her new life with new friends, all homesickness forgotten as the castle came into view.

*

*

*

Alright, well, Marinette had liked the train well enough, and couldn’t complain about its efficiency. The boats that the First Years had to get in? Not so much. It didn’t help that Nino mentioned the giant squid that lived in the Black Lake, and Marinette clutched the sides of the boat so hard her knuckles turned white. She saw an older student at the shore — a prefect, if his silver-and-green badge was anything to go by — who gave her a reassuring smile, and she breathed a bit easier until the actual castle came into view, when she lost all breath.

The magnificent castle shone like a golden beacon, with enchanted lights floating around the building, reflecting in the dark ripples of the midnight-blue lake. The stars seemed to glow brighter than ever before, and the moon seemed pale in comparison. Behind it were miles of forest with the tallest trees she had ever seen, rivalling the castle itself. Each tower rose higher than the rest, emerging from the leaves, and she could almost feel the warmth that seemed to radiate from the structure.

It was almost like the feeling of coming home.

With wobbly knees and Alya’s help, she stepped out of the boat, followed by Nathaniel and Nino. They followed the massive crowd of students, from timid First Years to cocky Seventh Years, to the front entrance of the castle, which flew open to welcome them. Marinette was right: the inside of the castle was warm, and the levitating candles seemed to explain why. When they stepped inside, the slightly intimidating building was instantly transformed into a mess of chatter and laughter while the professors divided them into year groups.

The First Years followed Professor Tikki up a flight of stairs for a headcount and then a brief explanation of the House Sorting ceremony. Marinette missed parts of it as she marvelled at all the portraits and gazed at the glowing lights of the magical candles. Did the professor say something about a hat?

“ _Look!_ ” she gasped, giving their shoulders a rough shake. “That portrait is — it’s _moving!_ ”

The redheaded boy didn’t look surprised, but still delighted. His face lit up as he gazed at the various scenes that moved before their eyes, as lifelike as it could possibly get. “Yes! I’ve read about that! I wish I could know how they’ve done it…”

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” Alya grinned at them. “I’ve tried to do it once before — my dad enchanted some drawings of mine — but it always ends up a messy blur.”

“Still, it’s amazing,” said Marinette. “Look! Did that knight just wave at us?”

“Should we wave back?” Nathaniel suggested, and Marinette was about to reply when she heard a snort and a snicker behind them.

“Merlin, can you believe these Muggle-borns?” came a snarky voice. Marinette turned her head sharply towards the source of the noise, and her eyes locked on a girl with blond hair high up in a ponytail. She was giggling. “Oh, look, Sabrina, a moving painting! Catch me, I’m going to faint!” she mocked. A girl beside her — with short ginger hair and a green hairband — laughed alongside her. Marinette frowned.

“Excuse me,” she said, approaching the two girls, “but take that back.”

The blonde girl looked surprised, then narrowed her cold blue eyes into a glare. “Oh, and what are you going to do if I don’t? Curse me?” She smirked. “Do you even know what a wand is?”

Marinette glared right back at her. “I _do,_ actually. I happen to _own_ one.”

“Oh? And what is it? One of those little magic sticks you Muggles have with flowers that come out the top?” The girl laughed again.

“Oh, Chloé, you’re _too_ funny!” Sabrina gushed, in between fits of giggles.

Marinette fumed. “What’s wrong with Muggles?” she asked, clenching her fists and standing tall. If this girl thought she could make fun of Muggles, she had another thing coming.

“Marinette…” Nino muttered with a cautious tone.

Chloé glared at them. “Are you joking? What’s _wrong_ with _Muggles_? Merlin, Sabrina, are you hearing this?”

“Marinette, it isn’t worth i-it…” Nathaniel tried in vain to pull her away, while Alya wore a scowl that mirrored Chloé’s. Marinette was about to add more, but reluctantly gave in, letting Alya, Nathaniel, and Nino pull her away towards the head of the group where Professor Tikki stood patiently in front of a large pair of heavy oak doors.

“That was so _Gryffindor_ of you, Marinette!” Nino said in admiration, and she blushed as Professor Tikki unrolled a scroll, read through it, and nodded to herself.

“Alright, First Year students,” she called. “We will now enter the Great Hall! Watch your step here—”

The doors immediately swung open before them, revealing a grand room with four long tables, each seating dozens of children of all ages, and decorated with the four House colours. She tried to remember the colours that represented each House, and figured out the order: Slytherin in the far left, then Ravenclaw, then Gryffindor, and finally Hufflepuff. There were elaborate banners hanging on all the walls, and even more enchanted candles that floated in midair. At the back was the High Table that seated all the professors — Marinette recognised Professor Wayzz, who was speaking to a tired-looking man with black hair — on a raised platform.

“Look up,” Nino whispered to the others.

Marinette did as he suggested, and immediately gasped as she saw…no ceiling! Instead of a roof, the night sky was visible above their heads, with the twinkling stars and the crescent moon shining bright.

“It’s enchanted,” Alya told them. “I’ve read about it in _Hogwarts: A History._ ”

“First Year Students,” Professor Tikki said, interrupting their awed gasps at the scenery. “I will now read out your names in alphabetical order. You will come forward and sit on this stool—” She gestured at a simple wooden stool at the centre of the raised platform. “—and let the Sorting Hat do the rest! You will then join your respective House.”

“The moment of truth, Alya,” Nino whispered harshly.

Alya smirked, fully confident. “Bring it on.”

Professor Tikki cleared her throat, hesitated, then read: “Agreste, Adrien.”

An unanticipated silence washed over the room, which Marinette did not understand, but put down to simple politeness. Nobody so much as coughed or whispered as a blond boy stepped forward. She could sense he was trying not to look nervous. He hesitantly sat on the stool, and waited while the Sorting Hat — a large lump of a brown hat with the pointed end askew — was placed on his head. It took a minute while the Hat was deciding, and the boy, Adrien, closed his eyes in anticipation. Ultimately, the Hat decided: “Slytherin!”

Cheers erupted from said House. The boy stood, even more nervous than before, and sat at the table, receiving multiple high-fives and pats on the back. Marinette noticed that his robes had somehow been enchanted, and now held the Slytherin House colours of silver and emerald-green. Even his tie had changed! When had _that_ happened?

When the cheering died down, Professor Tikki read out the next name: “Bourgeois, Chloé.”

She swaggered over to the stool.

“That girl from before,” Marinette whispered.

“Yeah,” Alya confirmed with a scowl. “ _Chloé._ She thinks she’s _all that_ because her daddy is the Minister for Magic.”

“He’s the what?” Marinette asked, but it fell on deaf ears as everyone watched while Chloé had daintily taken a seat and the Sorting Hat was presented to her. It barely touched her head before bellowing: “Slytherin!” She wore a self-assured smile and joined the other two First Years at their table; strangely enough, she had also seemed to expect this.

Two or three students were next before Professor Tikki called, “Césaire, Alya.”

Marinette gave her a thumbs-up while Nino smirked as Alya ascended the steps to the platform. The Sorting Hat took only a few seconds to decide: “Gryffindor!”

Alya’s smile could have lit a hundred rooms, and Nino whooped as Marinette gave him a questioning look.

“I thought you didn’t think she could get in,” Marinette whispered.

Nino shook his head, giving her an impish grin. “I always knew she would,” he admitted. “But teasing her is fun, y’know?”

After a few more students they had moved on from C to D, Marinette started anticipating her own name, but was still surprised when Professor Tikki said it.

“Dupain-Cheng, Marinette.”

Her heart stopped. She stepped forward, desperately wishing that she wouldn’t trip or that her robes wouldn’t get caught on anything while she walked up the steps. She caught one of the professors’ eyes — a small, old man in red who looked at her intently, expectantly. It made her nervous. She sat down on the stool, hands clammy, and tried not to look too scared of the sea of unfamiliar faces before her. She felt the gentle pressure of the Sorting Hat being placed on her head, and flinched when its voice filled her mind.

“Well, well…” it began. “You’re a good kid, aren’t you? Loyal, hard-working… Definitely courageous, the way you stood up to those girls a few minutes ago…”

Marinette remembered Nino’s comment from earlier, and flushed.

“Ah, and ambitious, are we? You want to become a designer, I see? Big ideas, big dreams. Definitely creative — I do like that hat you made. Very bright, very clever girl. My, my, how impressive. Oh, you’d fit in just fine anywhere, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” The Sorting Hat hesitated. “But you’re proud, too. You unapologetically want to be noticed, and accepted… You are protective — no — _defensive,_ rather. A bit of a clumsy one, too: this gives you well-earned caution. But you think with you heart as well as your head — that’s admirable. So where to put you…?”

Marinette closed her eyes in anticipation as the Hat murmured incomprehensive things that had nothing to do with one another, and tried desperately not to blush deeper as it talked of her less-than-redeeming qualities.

“Selfless,” the Hat finally said. “Selfless to the bone. I see heroic deeds in the future for you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Great things lie ahead of you. But you lack the background…and are willing to change that. Ah. I know.” Marinette tensed until the Hat bellowed, “Ravenclaw!”

The Ravenclaw table cheered, and Marinette opened her eyes to see an assortment of students with bronze-and-blue ties give her pleased looks. She wore a smile as she descended the steps to the table, and sat down next to a friendly-looking prefect who gave her a pat on the back.

“You’re the First Ravenclaw of the evening,” the prefect said. She was very pretty, with long dark hair styled into a high ponytail. Her prefect badge shone in the candlelight. “We’re off to a good start!”

“You were up there quite a while,” another older student remarked. He had very dark skin and a prefect badge on his shirt lapel. “I thought it was going to be a Hatstall for a second.”

Marinette briefly gave him a questioning look, but chose to focus on the ceremony as it continued. More and more faces she didn’t know joined their respective Houses, and they cheered every single time. She listened out for some names and faces, but missed some of them. A girl named Juleka joined her at the table not long after. The next Ravenclaw was a boy named Max. One girl with pink hair named Alixandrea was called soon after, and was quick to correct the professor: “Call me Alix,” she said straight to Tikki’s face. She was a Gryffindor. Marinette almost gasped at her boldness, but secretly admired it, too.

When Nathaniel was called, she saw his shaking fingers, and he looked pale as one of the ghosts flying around the Great Hall. The hat barely touched his cherry-red hair before it decided, “Ravenclaw,” with a satisfied tone. Nathaniel looked both relieved and terrified as he joined Marinette at the table.

Nino was next. He was Sorted into Hufflepuff, as expected.

“As expected of the Lahiffe family,” the prefect remarked as the red-and-gold table cheered for their new member. “They’ve all been Hufflepuffs since probably forever.”

“Would be surprised if he wasn’t sorted there,” said another Ravenclaw student.

Marinette squinted and could vaguely see an older boy at the Hufflepuff table who resembled Nino give him a high-five, as well as an older girl with the same cheeky smile and dark skin. When she turned back she grinned at Nathaniel, who gave her a shy smile in return, and waited until Professor Tikki announced the next name.

Minutes later, a very timid, very pretty girl named Rose joined the Hufflepuff table. Sabrina was in Slytherin with Chloé, as well as a handful of others. There were many other students whose names Marinette did not catch, but she resolved to learn them all as soon as possible.

Once Professor Tikki had finished, she gently flicked her wand and the stool, scroll, and Sorting Hat vanished. She smiled and announced: “Now Headmaster Fu would like to say a few words, so listen closely,” before taking her own seat at the faculty table.

An old man at the very centre of the table stood, and rather anticlimactically could barely reach the tabletop. He wore an outrageously tall pointy hat, and bright red robes embroidered with white flowers and leaves. The headmaster looked over the Great Hall with a sense of quiet pride that warmed Marinette greatly.

“Before the Start-Of-Term Feast, I would like to welcome both old and new students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he said. “A reminder to all of you that the third floor is strictly off-limits to all students! No one may venture into that part of the castle, even if your classmate claims there’s a shortcut to the library there. There really isn’t — I did, however, once find a room full of Fizzing Whizbees that ended up being an armada of angry Bludgers! In conclusion, be careful in every adventure, and enjoy the shepherd’s pie; it’s very good.” With that, he sat down, and clapped his hands once. The moment he did so, plates upon platters appeared on all the tables that advertised creamy mashed potatoes, roast chicken and beef, savoury pies with flaky crust, steaming towers of sautéed vegetables, aromatic soups accompanied with scents that wafted through the air, and dozens of other dishes Marinette could not wait to eat. If she had been hungry before, she was starving now.

“Well, enjoy!” the prefect told the First Years as she helped herself to a dollop of the mashed potatoes.

Marinette looked in amazement at the food for a moment and caught Nathaniel’s eye, flashing him an excited grin before tucking in. She particularly liked the pumpkin juice; it was strangely satisfying. As they ate, Marinette got to know Juleka and Max, and had succeeded in coaxing Nathaniel to speak more than a few sentences every hour.

After dinner and plenty of dessert, the prefects announced that the First Years should follow them to the Ravenclaw Common Room.

“It’s up in Ravenclaw Tower,” the prefect girl from earlier told them. “It’s quite beautiful on sunny days when the light reflects on the marble, and you could just stay and read all day…” She gave a happy sigh. “Well, come on! I’ll show you how to get to it. I’m Amaya, by the way — ask me anything if you need any help!”

Once they climbed a seemingly endless amount of steps — and why were the staircases _moving?_ — and passed several friendly portraits, the group found themselves in the west wing of the school. At the top of a spiral staircase was a simple wooden door with bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle.

“Instead of a traditional password,” Amaya said, “the knocker on the door asks you a riddle, and you have to answer correctly to get in. Sometimes there’s a lineup of students because they can’t answer — but that rarely happens. And honestly,” she whispered, covering her hand with her mouth so the door couldn’t hear, “sometimes it repeats riddles, but we’d never tell it that.” Amaya cleared her throat and turned to face the door. “Alright! What have you got in store for us today?”

A disembodied voice asked: “What always runs, but never walks, often murmurs, but never talks, has a bed, but never sleeps, and has a mouth, but never eats?”

The prefect thought for a few moments, murmuring, “A bed… Mouth, but doesn’t eat?” She bit her lip, thinking for a moment, before exclaiming, “Oh! A river _bed!_ It’s a river.”

The knocker replied, “You may enter,” and the door swung open, revealing a hallway with elegantly carved archways and smooth marble pillars. The hallway led to a spacious, circular room with a soft blue carpet and several high, arched windows that allowed them to see all the school grounds, with lavish, dark blue curtains draped over the spotless glass. Above their heads was a domed ceiling painted with stars and constellations that drifted over the stretch of blue.

There were a few paintings covering the walls — “This is Rowena Ravenclaw, the Founder of our House,” Amaya told them — but mostly books: there were scrolls, books, binders, and papers neatly piled up into bookshelves that reached the top of the ceiling. There were a few chaises longues and many desks and tables littered with what Marinette assumed was schoolwork. Even now, at the late hour, many older students were busy studying; there were also a few students reading for pleasure.

Taking up a large piece of the wall was a board with notes and papers tacked onto it, and when Marinette looked closer, she saw they were past riddles the knocker had told them, with some possible answers suggested below. _Isn’t this cheating?_ she wondered, then shrugged to herself: it was pretty genius. Some students had even made up their own riddles, trying to predict what the knocker would tell them next. Marinette tried reading them from a distance as Amaya continued.

“The boys’ dormitories are that way,” Amaya said, pointing to a door, where another prefect gave them a polite wave, “and the girls’ dormitories are this way. Boys, you can follow Yaqoob — he’ll show you where to go. Girls, follow me!” As Marinette followed Amaya, she gave a last glance and a wave at Nathaniel, who dutifully followed Yaqoob. The dark-haired prefect took them past a door to a hallway that contained seven other doors: one for each year group. Amaya told them the first one on the right was for the First Years before she headed off to her own room, promising to check up on them the next morning.

This room was also circular, with a dark wooden floor instead of marble, and a dark blue carpet that glowed with images of the phases of the moon. Marinette recognised her trunk and wandered over to her new bed, which had a canopy that seemed to change colour from sky blue to midnight blue. She even had her own little bedside table, desk, and chair, as well as a spectacular view of the school grounds from another elegant window. Yawning, she made the decision to unpack tomorrow. Now, she just wanted to sleep…

After the girls had undressed and pulled on their nightgowns and pyjamas, Marinette sleepily curled under the dark blue covers and played with the gold embroidery of the constellations. Her last thought was, _Capricorn is very pretty,_ before she drifted off to sleep.

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	2. Charms (and the Not-So-Charmed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you're liking the story so far. As you can probably tell, I love me some Mari-Nat friendship, and I want to include more Nino-Adrien bromance later on as well. Let me know what you'd like to see, I'd love any input!

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**Chapter Two: Charms (and the Not-So-Charmed)**

When Marinette awoke the next morning, she was about to run downstairs and recount to her parents what a wonderful dream she had of moving staircases and talking hats.

That is, until she felt a small, cold, slimy _something_ walk all over her forehead.

She screamed and jumped up, patting her head to find out whatever it was that was on it. A distressed Juleka jumped out of her own bed and headed straight to Marinette’s, who was still screaming, effectively waking the rest of the Ravenclaw girls up.

“Hold still!” Juleka cried. “Don’t hurt Reflekta!”

“Just get it off, _get it off_ —” The girl resorted to squeezing her eyes shut and waiting for it to go away, whatever _it_ was.

Juleka rolled her eyes good-naturedly and picked it off Marinette’s head. The young witch opened one eye, then the other, and found herself face-to-face with a bright pink toad.

“Oh,” she said shortly, feeling quite silly. She looked around and saw the rest of the Ravenclaw girls — some glared at her, while others were trying not to laugh. Marinette offered Juleka a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Juleka. I… I just got frightened. I didn’t know you had a toad!”

Juleka let out a tinkly laugh. “It’s alright, Marinette,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “I don’t know how she got out of her cage… I’d better find a spell to keep it locked.”

Marinette bit her lip, still feeling quite embarrassed, and went back to her bed. It was already eight-thirty, as she saw on the old clock by the door, so there was no point in going back to sleep. _I might as well try to be on time for the first day,_ she thought, remembering how often she was late to her old school. It was on a near-daily basis, which was both an accomplishment and _not_. While some girls had the same idea, two or three went back to sleep, pulling the curtain around the canopy to keep out any light. How they were going to be ready for class in an hour, Marinette didn’t know. She started dressing and quickly passed a brush through her hair before tying it up in two pigtails: her signature look. She then looked on her desk and saw that her class schedule had appeared there out of nowhere.

“Breakfast should already be downstairs,” Juleka said after she’d put Reflekta back in her cage. “Should we go down?”

Marinette smiled and nodded, holding her class schedule in one hand and her bag in the other. “According to my schedule, our first class is Herbology in about an hour… We’ll need our _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ textbook for that,” she said, taking the textbook out of her trunk. “Then we have Charms, so we’ll need _The Standard Book of Spells_ …” She double-checked the schedule and nodded, then put everything she needed into her bag, including quills and parchment. She turned to Juleka, who had already packed her bag. “Are you ready?” she asked, to which the dark-haired girl nodded.

As the two girls walked downstairs, trying to remember the way to the Great Hall, they made a little small talk. It was mostly about how excited they both were about starting classes. Marinette found out that Juleka was a half-blood, and that she was very passionate about Muggle photography.

“I love that wizarding photography moves,” she told Marinette, who had been shocked at the idea, “but I love the simplicity of real photography without magic.”

“I understand that completely,” Marinette agreed. She really did; at the feast the night before, she’d talked to Nathaniel about the moving portraits, and found that although magical paintings were wonderful, she still liked any still-life painting just as much. She supposed it was similar to photography: there was beauty in both magical and non-magical art.

“I love to design clothes,” Marinette admitted, “and I’d love to try making magical designs, but I would still love a normal dress or a jacket, even if it didn’t talk or change colour.”

“A dress that changes colour would be amazing, though,” Juleka said.

Marinette was about to reply when they were greeted by Alya and Nino, who were proudly sporting their respective House colours: gold and crimson for Alya, and yellow and black for Nino. Marinette had forgotten that their uniforms were enchanted, and looked down at her own; she liked the combination of blue and bronze.

“Morning!” Alya said cheerfully. She seemed just as excited as Marinette to begin classes.

“Morning,” Marinette replied. “What do you have first?”

“I have Charms, then Transfiguration,” Alya said. “You?”

“Herbology, then Charms,” Marinette said, smiling at the mere thought of it. “Have you eaten?” When Alya shook her head, the four of them made their way into the Great Hall, where breakfast was already served. Juleka left to greet an old friend of hers — Rose from Hufflepuff — and Alya and Nino went to their own tables. Marinette quickly spotted Nathaniel at the Ravenclaw table and ran over.

“Morning, Nathaniel,” she said, sitting opposite him. He looked up from his pumpkin juice and gave her a tired smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Barely,” he replied, stifling a yawn and quickly covering his mouth with his hand. “I c-couldn’t sleep with all the excitement. D-did you see we have Charms with Professor Tikki today?”

She noticed he’d almost lost his nervous stutter and was overjoyed. “Yes! I’m so excited to begin!” She beamed and helped herself to some pumpkin juice — she had taken a liking to it the night before — as well as a steaming bowl of porridge. She and Nathaniel spoke excitedly about what they were expecting for each lesson, and before she knew it, it was time for their first class of the day: Herbology. They slung their bags over their shoulders and rushed over to ask Amaya where the classroom was. She told them that it was actually in the greenhouse outside.

“The greenhouse?” Marinette repeated. She took one look at the dark, cloudy sky, and pouted. She really hoped it wouldn’t rain — and on her first day! Luckily, once they’d found the right greenhouse, they saw that while it did rain, none of the water ended up in the greenhouse itself, despite the open roof windows.

“There must be some kind of spell that prevents it from getting in,” Marinette mumbled. “That’s really clever, actually. And really helpful! One time, there was a leak in my parents’ bakery, and all the croissants were _soaked_ —”

“Then your parents should have just cast a Charm on the leak,” a shrill — and unfortunately, familiar — voice said from behind them. “Oh, no, wait. They couldn’t! I wonder how Muggles can survive, Sabrina; they’re just so utterly _useless_.”

Marinette turned, already dreading what came next, and saw that Chloé had walked in, followed by Sabrina and a handful of other First Year Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

“It must be a combined class,” Nathaniel whispered, and Marinette tried to cover up her moan of despair. The Slytherin was about to speak again when Professor Wayzz walked into the greenhouse with several pairs of earmuffs.

“Alright, students! Gather around. Now, is that everybody? Yes? Good, then let’s begin class. Oh,” he said suddenly. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough earmuffs for all of you… Is this a combined class? Oh dear. One moment, students, I’ll be right back…” He rushed out of the greenhouse, green robes flying, leaving Marinette wondering why on earth they needed earmuffs. It was cold, yes, but not _that_ cold!

“I wonder what we need the earmuffs for,” she murmured, to which Nathaniel simply shrugged. He opened his mouth to say something when his eyes widened and he gasped, covering his mouth with one hand while the other was pointing directly at Marinette.

“Uh, Marinette… Something’s…happened to you hair,” he said, looking frightened.

“What?” Marinette frowned and reached up. It felt fine to her… “What’s happened? Did my pigtail fall out…?”

“Um, n-no,” Nathaniel said slowly. “Y-your h-h-hair has t-t-turned — _g-green!_ ”

Marinette paled and pulled her bangs down. She could barely make it out, but the strands were clearly no longer a glossy black — they were a disgusting shade a moss green. She gasped, shocked, and pulled out her ponytails and looked down. It was _all_ green!

She looked up at Nathaniel, now starting to get frightened as well. “What happened?” she asked, and Juleka shook her head, also shocked.

“Marinette!” she said. “It’s — it’s gone _pink_ now!”

“What?!” Marionette shrieked.

She looked down at her hair again, and — he was right! It had now turned a bright shade of pink that almost resembled Reflekta the toad. She shrieked, definitely afraid now. What in the world was happening?!

The question answered itself when she heard laughter behind her, and saw Chloé and Sabrina giggling. There was a Slytherin boy with them who held a wand in his hand, and it was pointed at Marinette.

Still shocked and confused, the young Ravenclaw frowned and immediately walked up to the trio. She glared at the boy’s wand, then at the boy himself. She vaguely recognised him from the Sorting ceremony the night before — was his name Alan? Or Adrien? Regardless, she held up a few locks of hair and gave him an accusing look.

“Would you mind changing this back? You’ve had your fun,” she hissed. The boy’s eyes — they were impossibly green — were wide with terror as he quickly put his wand away.

“W-what?” he said, voice catching. “N-no! I — I didn’t mean it! I was only trying to help, but I accidentally turned it—”

“Enough!” Marinette snapped. “Just change it back!”  
The boy bit his lip. “I don’t know how,” he admitted, voice small.

Marinette glared at him again, and was about to respond when Professor Wayzz walked in and consequently dropped all the earmuffs as he spotted Marinette’s hair.

“My word!” he exclaimed. “What in Merlin’s name is going on here? Miss Dupain-Cheng, do you care to explain yourself?”

Marinette spared the three Slytherin students a glance and looked up to Professor Wayzz. “I’m not sure what happened, Professor,” she said. “I think it was _an accident._ I’m sure nobody did it _on purpose,_ ” she added, her gritting her teeth. “Could you change it back?”

The Professor looked at her with hesitant understanding. He ushered her to the side and murmured something about not being allowed to perform spells on students, but told her to find Professor Tikki instead.

“She _is_ the Charms professor, after all,” he reasoned, rather nervous, “so I’m sure she’ll know what to do. Come back to the lesson as soon as you can.” With that, he patted her shoulder reassuringly and began the lesson. Marinette looked down at her hair one more time, frowning, and ran off to find Professor Tikki’s classroom with Chloé’s laughter echoing in the back of her mind.

After her initial shock at Marinette’s appearance, Professor Tikki took a second to step out of the classroom — Alya sent her a quick wave as the professor opened the classroom door — and quickly uttered an incantation that changed the Ravenclaw’s hair back to its original, glossy blue-black. When she had asked how it had come to be such a strange colour, Marinette mumbled something vague about an accident, to which Professor Tikki looked thoroughly unconvinced. However, she stopped all further questions, and told the student to return to class. With a grateful smile and a few dozen “thank-you’s,” Marinette rushed back to the greenhouse to finish her Herbology lesson, making it a point to ignore the guilty-looking Slytherin boy.

However, Marinette did eventually find out why they were using earmuffs, and cringed whenever she thought about it. Mandrakes were now quite possibly her least favourite things of all time.

When the lesson was over and it was time for Charms, Marinette was in a much better mood, and found herself looking forward to Professor Tikki’s class. As they walked up the enchanted stairs to the classroom, Marinette tapped Nathaniel on the shoulder.

“Who was that boy?” she asked, hearing the venom return to her voice. “The one who did that to my hair.”

“I think that was Adrien Agreste,” Nathaniel answered after a bit of hesitation. “Yaqoob was t-talking about him yesterday in the Common Room. Apparently, he’s really famous in the wizarding world. They call him something… The Boy Who Thrived? No, that’s not it… Well, all I know is that his father is incredibly successful.”

“What does his father do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted sheepishly. “I kind of fell asleep…” At that, Marinette laughed, forgetting the uncomfortable subject altogether as they walked into Professor Tikki’s classroom.

To her delight, Marinette found that she was actually quite good at understanding Charms — they only covered the basics of the Levitation Charm, and wouldn’t be practicing it for a while, but the theory behind it made sense to her. She even understood why it was different from the Hover Charm or the Floating Charm, and found herself enjoying listening to Professor Tikki explain why.

When it was time for lunch, she left the classroom with a smile, forgetting the earlier events of the morning altogether. Lunch was fine, and Amaya had given them advice on how to choose their extracurricular subjects. Her mood was also considerably lifted when she found out that the History of Magic professor, Madame Bustier, was very good at making a fascinating subject even more interesting — and Marinette wasn’t the only one who thought so. Most of the Ravenclaws, especially Max, were sitting on the edge of their seats and frantically scribbling down notes. She left the classroom with even higher spirits than before, and was excited for her next lesson: Potions.

When they figured out where the dungeons were, the Ravenclaw students found that they had a combined lesson with the Gryffindors, to Alya and Marinette’s collective delight. Marinette and Alya claimed a table for themselves while the rest of the class divided themselves, mainly sticking to their own Housemates. Marinette wasn’t overly impressed with the state of the classroom — there were dirty cauldrons scattered everywhere, books and papers littered the desks, and it stank of mildew and mould — and was even more sceptical when she saw several feet of spiderweb dangling from the ceiling.

When the professor arrived — about five minutes late, no less — Marinette was even less impressed. He had unruly black hair that was messily tied up and away from his face, though half of it was sticking out in every direction. His robes were long and black, and he wore a bored expression. He even yawned the moment he stepped into the classroom!

“Afternoon,” he said simply. “I’m Professor Plagg, and this is Potions class. Now — if all of you would kindly refrain from playing with the Fire Seed infusion, I would appreciate it. Some idiot just spilled it all over himself and got a nasty burn.” He yawned again. “Ah, what I wouldn’t do for some Camembert right about now…”

Marinette looked confused and cocked an eyebrow. “Did he just say _Camembert?_ ” she whispered.

“We’ll begin with the basics,” Professor Plagg continued. “Open up your books to page two, and begin reading up until page one hundred and twenty-seven.” With that, he collapsed on his desk, head resting in his hands. After a few moments, Marinette could clearly hear him snoring.

“He’s unbelievable,” Alya mumbled. Nevertheless, they opened up their copies of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and began reading.

Unlike with Charms, Marinette understood potions considerably less. She understood that ingredients had magical properties — but why did a pinch of powdered moonstone have healing properties, while more than an ounce mimicked feelings of attraction in love potions? How on earth did the cycle of the moon drastically change the end result of a brew? Why did the order in which the ingredients were added correlate to the properties of the final potion? And why in Merlin’s name would you need to stir in a clockwise direction for three and a half minutes? It wasn’t like cooking — where you added fats and proteins for specific reasons — but looked like a load of nonsensical… _nonsense_ that someone had thrown together randomly.

By the end of the class, she had grown increasingly more confused until she couldn’t understand what the textbook was telling her. She decided that Potions was probably not her favourite subject, and not only because she didn’t understand it all too well: Plagg himself was not exactly a ray of sunshine.

Once Professor Plagg had dismissed the class after having produced an entire wheel of Camembert cheese from his desk drawer, the students hurried off to enjoy two hours of free time until dinner was served. Marinette suggested they go outside and enjoy the fresh air while they started on the Charms homework Professor Tikki had assigned. Alya immediately agreed with an enthusiastic whoop, and even Nino shrugged and said he would come along. Marinette convinced Nino and Alya to let Nathaniel come with them, as shy as he seemed, and they agreed — and the four sat on one of the picnic benches under a tree by the Black Lake while they went over the required reading and homework for their classes. They were happy to find that the sun was out and non-threatening, puffy white clouds were lazily drifting past, which was a stark contrast to the rainy morning they’d had.

Once again, Marinette found that she greatly enjoyed Charms, and even started to draw up a table of the similarities and differences between the Locomotion Charm and the Levitation Charm, which was due in next week. Once they’d finished the required reading and started on their tables, they put away their books, and Marinette leaned back against the tree to enjoy the remaining sunlight. It was nearing seven o’clock, and dinner would be served soon, but it would be a shame to pass up any good weather, even if the grass was still a bit wet.

“…never believe what happened this morning!” Marinette was saying, frowning at the memory as she recalled how Adrien had enchanted her hair during Herbology.

“You should have heard Chloé laughing.” She pulled a face. “I’d rather listen to a hundred Mandrakes — _without_ earmuffs on,” she added.

“You know that’s fatal, right?” Alya said, cocking an eyebrow.

Marinette brought a hand to her forehead dramatically. “So be it.”

“That’s strange, though,” Nino piped up suddenly.

“What is?” asked Alya. “About a Mandrake’s screams being fatal? It’s only when they’re mature—”

“No, I mean,” he interrupted, “about Adrien.” Marinette frowned, and Nino caught her change in expression. “Just hear me out! We had Transfiguration with the Slytherins second period, and Professor Nooroo paired us up together. He was really nice — not like Chloé at all — and he just didn’t seem like the type of person to do that.”

“Well, he _did_.” Marinette scowled down at her table. “No matter what type of person he _seems_ like, the fact remains that he put a spell on me — for no apparent reason!”

“Do you, uh, know anything about his f-father?” Nathaniel asked suddenly.

Alya nodded. “Gabriel Agreste? Oh, yeah, he’s a big name in the wizarding fashion industry,” she told them. “He’s one of the most successful clothing designers of all time — I think he even designs for Madame Malkin’s and all the shops in Diagon Alley.”

“The Agreste family is just one of those families everybody knows, like the Bourgeois and Rossi families,” Nino explained. “They’re some of the most prestigious pure-blood families in the world! There’s not even _one drop_ of Muggle blood in them,” he stated matter-of-factly. “That’s why they’re so prejudiced towards Muggles.”

“Personally, I think it’s ridiculous,” Alya huffed. “There’s nothing wrong with being related to Muggles!”

Nino gave her a cheeky smile. “I’d reconsider that, looking at _you_ —”

That earned him a smack from Alya and a laugh from Marinette. Then Alya returned to the topic at hand. “So, yeah, Gabriel Agreste is the super rich head of a pure-blood family and a successful designer. He’s not nearly as famous as his son, though.”

“Why is Adrien so famous, then?” Nathaniel asked. At this, Nino gave them an incredulous look, whereas Alya gasped.

“What?” Marinette said, suddenly feeling insecure.

“Wait! You don’t _know?_ ” asked Alya, mouth still gaping open in surprise.

“Know _what?_ ”

“Oh, of course you don’t!” The Gryffindor smacked her own forehead. “Merlin! Where do I even begin?”

“At the beginning, please,” Marinette suggested.

Nino and Alya shared a look, then nodded. “Well,” Nino began, “eleven years ago, there was a Dark wizard. He was one of those purist extremists — he hated the thought of wizards with Muggle blood, and he… He murdered a lot of good people.”

Marinette felt her heart sink in her chest. Suddenly, the setting sun seemed less romantic and more frightening.

“Well, You-Know-Who wanted—”

“You-Know-Who?” Nathaniel repeated.

Alya bit her lip and nodded. “We’re not supposed to say his name,” she explained. “Like, _ever._ My dad let it slip once at a family dinner and he got yelled at _a lot_.”

Marionette nodded slowly, utterly confused, but decided not to question it. She definitely didn’t want to force Alya or Nino to say it against their will, though she was curious as to what his name was. “How does this connect to Adrien?” she asked.

“There was a prophecy,” Nino continued.

“A prophecy that there was a Chosen One who would defeat You-Know-Who,” Alya said. “He stole it, but a team of Aurors — that’s like the magical police, I suppose? — managed to take it back. But he’d already heard who it was.”

There was a pregnant pause. “And that Chosen One…” Marinette thought for a moment. “Was it Adrien?”

Alya and Nino both nodded.

“So what happened?” Marinette asked.

“You-Know-Who tried to kill Adrien with the Killing Curse — he was just a baby at the time — but Adrien’s mum, who was an Auror, fought him off. She didn’t survive, but—”

“And _this_ is where the strange bit comes in,” interrupted Nino, obviously excited about this part of the story. Alya sighed but let him continue. “When You-Know-Who tried to kill Adrien with the Killing Curse, it _didn’t work_.”

“And… Adrien didn’t — he didn’t die?”

“Well, obviously,” Alya confirmed, “but it’s strange, because nobody who was hit with the Killing Curse had ever survived before. And after that, You-Know-Who was never seen again. He simply vanished. Everybody thinks the spell must’ve backfired, or something, and that he died.”

“That’s why people call Adrien the Boy Who Lived,” Nino concluded.

At this name, Marinette remembered something at the back of her mind — something about the Boy Who Lived that Ollivander had mentioned to her when she’d gotten her wand. She took it out and gazed at it, trying to remember what it was.

“Oh, good idea, Marinette,” Alya said, taking out her own wand and quickly casting a spell that made the time glow before them in mid-air. “Oh, Merlin! It’s seven-fifteen already! Time really does fly.”

“Is it?” said Nico, standing up and packing up his books. “Great, it’s time for dinner! Let’s get to the Great Hall — I’m so hungry I could eat a unicorn…”

“Nino!” Alya exclaimed, looking disgusted and hitting him with her Potions book.

“What? I was _joking!_ ”

After sharing a glance at the curious display — unicorns didn’t exist, did they? — Marinette and Nathaniel followed the two into the castle and into the Great Hall, where dinner had indeed been served. Despite the chatter around her, Marinette didn’t quite enjoy the pumpkin soup as much as she could have, as she was still deep in thought about what Alya and Nino had told them. She didn’t know that there had even been an evil wizard — or, rather, a Dark wizard — so recently, and the thought made her afraid.

At seven-thirty, she announced that she wasn’t hungry, and decided to go upstairs and read for a bit. Nathaniel gave her a worried glance, but didn’t question it and continued eating, which Marinette appreciated greatly.

When she’d reached the Common Room and sank down into her mattress, she let the weight of the day go and breathed deeply. To clear her head, she took out her sketchbook and tried to design something, but couldn’t find the inspiration. Disappointed, she put down her pencil, unable to clear her thoughts. Why would somebody like that — who people called the Chosen One and the Boy Who Lived — do something so immature? What if Nino was right, and Adrien wasn’t the type to pull such a prank?

But then why did he do it?

She sighed and picked up her wand again.

“Cypress, ten and three-quarter inches, with phoenix feather at the core…” she murmured absentmindedly, and immediately sat up. Phoenix feather! That was it! All at once, Ollivander’s words came back to her: “The phoenix that gave this feather gave _one_ other… The sibling wand belongs to none other than the Boy Who Lived.”

 _The Boy Who Lived._ That meant Adrien — she knew that now.

Did Adrien know that their wands were connected somehow?

Is that why he hated her?

With that troubling thought in mind, Marinette drifted off into sleep, clutching her wand like a lifeline.

*

*

*

Well, the first week of school certainly hadn’t gone Adrien’s way.

All summer long, he’d been beyond excited to start his first term at Hogwarts. It was all he talked about with Chloé and Lila — who, to his dismay, were two of the only people his own age that Adrien was permitted to befriend. It got to the point where Chloé had demanded he change the subject on multiple occasions — yes, _Chloé_ , who would usually do anything for her _Adrikins_ — but Adrien couldn’t help it. Hogwarts was all he’d ever dreamed of! Although his mother had spoken fondly of her days at Beauxbatons, Adrien had always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and learn from the best, just as he had done. Some part of him had hoped — and even secretly expected — that perhaps, this would earn him some attention from his father. As successful as he was as a designer and celebrity businessman in the wizarding world, Gabriel Agreste seldom had time for his own son, hardly ever being home and never even eating meals with his only remaining family. Adrien somehow hoped he’d be able to rekindle a sense of companionship, even affection, between them.

He’d been wrong to hope.

The day he had gotten his acceptance letter by owl, Nathalie, who was his father’s personal assistant, had given it to him without as much as a word. He waited for a few days for his father to congratulate him, or to share some old Hogwarts memorabilia with him, but he never did. He knew his father had been a great success during his time at Hogwarts — a star student, a powerful wizard, and incomparably clever.

Still, he’d gone to school with high hopes, but it had also been a lot more difficult to make new friends than he’d expected. He suspected that a lifetime of hanging around Chloé and Lila hadn’t helped him. Luckily, Lila had been sent to Beauxbatons, instead. But Chloé’s attitude wasn’t helping him now. Merlin, on the very first day, he’d gotten off on the wrong foot with Marinette, who had actually seemed quite nice — that is, until she yelled at him. “The wrong foot” was quite an understatement, actually. It had been the worst foot possible.

He had honestly only been trying to help when Chloé turned her hair green! But how could he have guessed that he’d accidentally turn it pink? He truly hated that Chloé had singled Marinette out to bully — and only because she had stood up to her when Chloé made fun of them before the Sorting ceremony. He had never quite understood their prejudice towards Muggles. Adrien was quite curious about them — how did they possibly live without magic? He’d hoped to make a half-blood or Muggle-born friend who could tell him, and maybe share some Muggle culture with him.

That dream was now down the drain.

Not only had Chloé made it a point to scare away most of the people he wanted to talk to, but Marinette was now blatantly ignoring him. It frustrated him to no end, especially since they seemed to have a lot in common: he noticed their shared enjoyment of Charms when they had a lesson together once, and she got along with mostly everybody! It should be easy to befriend her.

But she was still angry at him.

He needed to find a way to explain the situation to her, but how in Merlin’s name could he do that when she avoided him like Dragon Pox?

As he collapsed on a chaise longue in the Slytherin Common Room, his bag on the floor, he reflected with a smile that at least he’d made one new friend: Nino Lahiffe. Nino was also a pure-blood — not of the calibre his father would approve of, unfortunately, as they were infamously poor, and Nino’s father worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office — and they both shared an equal passion for Quidditch. They weren’t bad Transfiguration partners, either, and if Nino hadn’t been a Hufflepuff, Adrien would want to spend all his meals with him. Unfortunately, it was an unspoken rule that Slytherins and the other Houses didn’t mix, however stupid it was. And the last thing Adrien wanted to do was stand out: he’d already had dozens of people ask for his autograph since school started.

Or, rather, they wanted the autograph of “Merlin’s beard, the Boy Who Lived!”

It was a bit frustrating that people seemed to completely forget that he had a name other than “Merlin’s pants, the Chosen One!” On the other hand, he also understood the situation better than anyone. He’d watched his father get bombarded with questions and demands for interviews all his life, and had learned to accept the fact that people would probably never see him as just…well, _just Adrien._

He took out his Charms textbook and leaned back against the emerald-green cushions in an attempt to clear his head. What was the homework again? To draw up a table showing the differences between… _which_ spells? Oh yeah, the similarities and differences between the Locomotion Charm and—

_“Oh, Adrikins!”_

Adrien almost flinched as he heard Chloé’s absurd nickname for him, and forced a smile as she approached him with her trademark self-assured smirk. As usual, Sabrina was hot on her trail, and was even holding Chloé’s bag. _Not again,_ Adrien thought sympathetically. _When is she going to stand up for herself?_

“Hi, Chloé,” he said.

“What are you doing with that book? We still have ages before that’s due,” Chloé said, wrinkling her nose at the thought of doing any homework early. Well, it wasn’t like she actually did any of the work herself, anyway.

“I just wanted to get it out of the way,” Adrien said. Well, that was partly true. He also wanted to get his mind off the crappy week he’d had, but he didn’t feel comfortable confiding in Chloé. He knew from past experience that she was usually less than helpful, and almost always ended up making him feel worse.

“Come with us, Adrikins! I want to show you the new Agreste dress robes Daddy got me,” she said proudly. Adrien resisted the urge to pull a face — he’d been forced to use his status as the Chosen One to advertise his father’s clothes, and promoting products with fame that he didn’t earn was not something he was comfortable doing. The mere mention of the Agreste brand made him feel a mixture of unpleasant emotions, mostly linked to his father.

“I, err… Actually, Chloé, I just remembered that Professor Plagg needed to see me after dinner,” he lied. “He, uh, wanted to talk to me about, um, something to do with my grades. I’ll talk to you later!” With that, he grabbed his bag and walked off, trying to seem as natural as possible.

Honestly, now that he’d spent a week with Nino, he didn’t want to hang around Chloé again. Despite the misunderstanding with Marinette, he’d made one true friend, and finally found out what real friendship was like.

As he walked out of the dungeons and onto the first floor, he decided to wander around the castle until ten o’clock, when he’d have to be back in bed. He wanted to at least clear his head and be alone for a little while.

*

*

*

Over the next month, Marinette had successfully avoided Adrien in all their lessons together, as well as in the hallways and during meals. To her dismay, out of all the extracurricular classes, he was one of the three other students who had also picked Magical Theory. The class of four — the other two being Max and Juleka — met twice a week after class, and while Marinette loved every bit of it, she was also slightly envious of Nathaniel, who seemed to enjoy Muggle Art immensely. She knew it was wishful thinking, but whenever she caught Adrien’s eye in class, she quietly wished he would miraculously drop it and take up another.

Alya, on the other hand, had started writing for the student newspaper, which they had ingeniously named _The Owl Post_. At first, Marinette hadn’t understood the joke, until Alya had reminded her that owls carried post in the wizarding world — she then mentally kicked herself for forgetting something so trivial, and laughed along with her friends.

Like Alya, Nino hadn’t picked an extracurricular class, and had elected to take extra Flying lessons instead. “I want to join the Quidditch team as soon as possible!” he’d explained, which Marinette had gathered was a sport involving brooms. She wasn’t quite sure. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested; she enjoyed riding a broomstick well enough, but found that many of the students were already far better than her, and it made her feel rather self-conscious. To make matters worse, each Flying lesson was every House combined, so there was no way to escape Chloé’s commentary.

Speaking of Flying class, Marinette grimaced as she noticed that she had a lesson that very afternoon, right after Potions. That seemed like the worst combination possible. She also had Magical Theory before dinner! Marinette groaned, dreading the rest of the day. She _really_ didn’t want to sit through Professor Plagg’s complaining, Chloé’s never-ending insults, and then have to sit with Adrien for an hour. It was too much.

Strangely enough, though, despite all the opportunities he could have had over the past two weeks, Adrien had done nothing else to torment her since their first day. Two whole weeks had gone by without as much as a word from him. Well, it wasn’t exactly peaceful, either: Chloé’s insults were harsh and delivered often. It was frustrating and irritating, and anything Marinette said or did only seemed to make it worse. She was out of ideas; she had tried ignoring her, provoking her, and even considered telling her off, but the fact that her father was Minister for Magic seemed to protect her pretty well.

That was another thing Marinette didn’t understand: the privileged positions that their family’s background put the pure-bloods in. At first, she hadn’t noticed, but gradually she found herself being ticked off that Plagg seemed to favour Slytherins as the Head of Slytherin House. She could say the same for Professor Nooroo, Head of Hufflepuff, and even for Professor Wayzz, who was Head of Ravenclaw. The only truly neutral character Marinette could think of was Professor Tikki, who seemed to be Plagg’s complete opposite: she was stern but kind-hearted, challenged her students in each class, didn’t favour Gryffindors, and it was obvious that she was a truly good-natured woman as well as a powerful witch.

 _I can’t exactly say the same for Plagg, though,_ Marinette thought.

Most of the students — Marinette included — had even gotten into the habit of omitting Plagg’s title as professor whenever they said his name. Marinette couldn’t honestly say she had tried very hard to break it. It only seemed fair! Even today, he hadn’t lifted a single finger during their lesson, and only told them to solve a task he had set on the blackboard. But it wasn’t a task: it was only a list of ingredients for a fear-inducing potion. Alya seemed intensely focused on it, but Marinette simply looked at it and shook her head, not understanding the purpose at all. What was the point of this? This was all out of the blue.

Well, it had been a long and pretty unproductive hour, to say the least.

That is, until Plagg asked Marinette to stay behind after class.

She emerged the classroom five minutes later than everyone else looking even more distracted than usual. Alya either didn’t notice or decided not to question it, and raved about that lesson’s task with a frown.

“…just can’t _believe_ he gave us an intentionally impossible task,” Alya groaned as the two ascended the steps leading up to the first floor. Marinette nodded vaguely in apparent agreement, and shivered slightly as she glanced around the cold, stone walls. Potions wasn’t her favourite subject for good reason: she hated the dungeons. With the added bonus of Plagg, she couldn’t understand how some people enjoyed it. And it always smelled of cheese down there.

“It’s very _Plagg_ , though,” Alya continued. “We should’ve seen something like this coming. Heck, we learned on the first _day_ that a fear-inducing potion can’t be made from short-spiked Hornquills! I completely overlooked it because I was too focused on the odd number of four-leaved clovers… Err, Marinette, are you listening?”

Marinette snapped out of her trance and looked at her friend, meeting her expectant expression with wide eyes. “Oh! Err, yes. Four numbers of odd-leaved clovers. Uh, I mean, four leaves of odd-numbered clovers. No, wait—”

“You’re nervous,” Alya said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “What happened back there? Did Plagg threaten you with detention?”

“No,” Marinette mumbled. “He just wanted to discuss my… _below average_ score from last week. Apparently, my potion was so putrid, he had to Vanish it within minutes. I just don’t know what happened…” She cringed at the mention of their last practical lesson. She’d managed to mess up the growing potion pretty badly — what should’ve been a smooth, turquoise concoction, turned into a bright orange mess the consistency of cottage cheese.

“Really? That bad?” Alya questioned. “What happened, girl? You always seem to be so on top of your studies! And I’m not just saying that because you’re a Ravenclaw.”

Marinette looked at her feet and stopped halfway up the stairs. “Not always, apparently,” she said to her feet. “He assigned me a…a _tutor._ ” She almost gagged at the word.

“What’s wrong with that?” Alya asked, poking her in the shoulder. “Does it hurt your pride? You don’t have to be spectacular at everything, you know.”

“No, it’s not that.” Marinette looked up at Alya with big, soulful eyes. “It’s _Adrien_ ,” she wailed in despair.

Alya gave her a sympathetic look as they opened the heavy door leading to the first floor. Light flooded the stairs, and Marinette blinked to get rid of the spots in her vision.

“Don’t worry, Marinette,” the Gryffindor said. “It’ll be fine. Nino’s told me all about him, and he really isn’t like those other pure-bloods.”

Marinette looked unconvinced. “The fact remains that he did what he did.”

Alya turned back to look at her. The light behind her created a dark silhouette, so Marinette couldn’t see her expression.

“It’ll be fine,” Alya repeated. “Now, come on. We’re going to be late to Flying, and Professor Damocles has had enough of me as it is.”

Marinette nodded; it was true that Alya wasn’t the most talented flyer. For some reason, she had trouble even getting the broom to lift up. Marinette herself didn’t find any trouble with the simple commands, but it was only once she got on a broom that all confidence left her. It was an awkward, as well as completely exposed position: balancing was difficult, and it was even more difficult to focus on direction when you could barely control the speed. It was exhausting. With very low expectations for the next class, Marinette followed Alya outside. She saw Professor Damocles already gathering the students together. It was rather comical; Professor Damocles look exactly like an owl, but nobody understood why he was the Flying coach when he would never be able to fit on a broom.

The two joined the group as Professor Damocles started their lesson. “Today we will begin experimenting with different heights,” he told the class, towering over them all. “Each group will fly together towards those hoops,” he said, indicating four glowing, golden hoops that were levitating in the sky, quite a height above the school. There were several different colours and sizes of hoops, all in groups of four, around the grounds, it seemed. “The aim is to be able to fly at a constant speed while going up and down to the appropriate height efficiently. Now, amongst yourselves, divide yourselves into groups of four, please!”

Naturally, Alya and Marinette stuck together as they looked for another pair. Nathaniel gave them an apologetic look, as he had already joined a group of four, and everyone else seemed to be taken until Nino waved at them, calling them over. Gratefully, the two girls joined him, but Marinette blanched when she saw who Nino’s partner was.

“Oh! Err, hi,” Adrien said, eyes darting back and forth between Alya to Marinette, lingering on the Ravenclaw just a split-second longer, a little nervously.

“Hi,” Alya said with a polite smile. “Let’s get some brooms, shall we? I’m going to sweep the floor with you three!”

“I don’t think that’s an actual expression, Alya,” Nino muttered, but grinned as he ran after her across the field, determined to find the least beaten-up broom for himself.

Marinette awkwardly bounced on the balls of her feet as she looked anywhere but at the boy next to her. She certainly didn’t want to talk about their tutoring. She didn’t want to talk to him at all! He seemed to get the idea, and looked rather sunken in on himself as he stared at the glowing hoops in the sky with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Got ’em!” Alya beamed proudly, holding Marinette’s broom out to her as Nino did the same for Adrien. Each group took turns flying through the hoops, with Professor Damascus yelling for each student to “Go faster; you’re not a snail!” or “Slow down, for Merlin’s sake!” The four shuffled towards the professor and waited silently for their turn, gradually losing interest in the other flying students until a shriek and a thud made Marinette jump two feet in the air. They quickly looked for the source of the sounds and gasped as she saw Max and Alix on the floor, Alix clutching her head and Max his arm.

“Did they collide?” Alya whispered harshly.

“Merlin!” Nino dropped his broom, all eagerness to fly forgotten.

Professor Damocles rushed over to the pair, calling out that they would need to go to the infirmary immediately, and rushed off with Max and Alix in tow. He absentmindedly yelled a final command over his shoulder forbidding anybody to fly until he returned. Minutes later, a restless murmur had spread throughout the class. Marinette, however, was quiet, deep in thought about a certain Slytherin. She had noticed that he had showed genuine concern after seeing Max’s tear-streaked face, and pursed her lips together. _How strange…_

“Oh, you want this? Come and get it, then!”

Marinette almost rolled her eyes when she heard Chloé’s voice, and turned to see that she was several feet in the air, teasingly dangling what looked like a golden pocket-watch in the air. An angry Kim was jumping up in the air, grabbing at something in the blonde’s hands.

“Hang on, isn’t that Alix’s pocket-watch?” Alya asked, pointing. “She was showing it off at breakfast — she said it’s a valuable family heirloom! Where did Chloé get it?”

“This isn’t funny, you snake!” Kim yelled, as if it were an insult. “Give it back! It’s not yours!”

“Well, _I_ have it, so maybe it _is_ mine,” she smirked, and laughed at him. She was throwing the watch up and down, as if it couldn’t drop any moment, and flying higher by the second.

“We should get it back!” Marinette decided, but hesitated as she remembered Professor Damocles’ words. Her hands clenched around her broomstick. She couldn’t risk a detention, not while failing Potions and Plagg already on her case… Adrien, however, was already on his broom and sped up to meet Chloé in the air.

“Chloé, you can’t do this,” he yelled, obviously upset. “Come on, give it back!”

The girl looked shocked. “Adrikins!” she cried, pouting. “I’m just having a bit of fun!”

“Give it back, Chloé,” he repeated, his tone hard. Chloé looked at the watch in her clenched fist and shrieked in frustration as she threw it behind her with all her strength. Marinette expected it to fall and break and quickly closed her eyes in anticipation, waiting for a _crack_. However, seconds later, when she opened them, she saw Adrien with the watch in his outstretched hand, holding it up triumphantly. The students cheered, forming a crowd around him as he lowered to a hover. Chloé was sulking, and lowered her broom, practically throwing it to the ground.

“That was awesome, dude!” Nino cried, running over to him. He looked impressed. “How in Merlin’s name did you even catch that? You flew so fast, I couldn’t even see you!”

“It was amazing!” Alya agreed, and reached for the pocket-watch, which glinted in the sun like a prize. “Here, give it to me, I’ll give it back to Alix tonight. I’m sure she’ll be super grateful.”

Adrien bashfully batted away the compliments and handed Alya the prized watch, before meeting Marinette’s eyes. She stood just outside of the crowd, quite unwilling to cheer for him, but she _did_ have to admit that what he’d done was pretty selfless, and even rather cool… The moment she’d met his eyes, she knew she better come up with something to say. But before she could even open her mouth, he flew up to her, broad-shouldered with determination.

“Marinette, I didn’t charm you hair green,” he said. She quickly opened her mouth to respond, but he beat her to it, one hand up defensively. “Honestly! Chloé did it, and I was only trying to help, but I somehow made it pink instead… I’m really, really sorry. I should never have even tried to charm it back. It was dangerous and stupid… I just wanted to make it right.” He gave her an apologetic look, then smiled brightly. “And… Did Plagg talk to you about our tutoring sessions?”

Marinette nodded mutely, gazing up at him. The breeze dishevelled his hair ever so slightly, and she felt her heartbeat catch in her throat.

His green eyes brightened with his smile. “Then… I’m looking forward to them! We have Magical Theory today as well, right? Do you…want to sit together?”

Again, Marinette only nodded, unsure of what to say. She didn’t think he was lying — she knew for sure that he was telling the truth by the look in his eyes. His eyes, which were so impossibly green… How had she never noticed the intensity of his gaze before, or the length of his eyelashes? Oh, right, she’d been to busy hating him. And for no reason, apparently! The shame coloured her cheeks a bright red. Once again she opened her mouth, but no sound escaped her.

“Well, well, Mr Agreste, I certainly hope you had a good reason for flying in the absence of a supervisor.”

The pair jumped at the stern voice, and saw Plagg approach them with his usual unamused frown on his face. Adrien immediately dismounted the broom, the tips of his ears reddening.

“I’ve never seen something so irresponsible,” he continued, crossing his arms, and Adrien looked at his feet. The professor stopped, then, and gave him a reluctantly impressed look. “But I’ve also never seen a First Year catch something so skilfully. You have true talent, kid. But the fact remains that you shouldn’t have done it, and you shouldn’t do it again. Now come with me, kiddo.” He beckoned the Slytherin boy to follow him, and Adrien glanced at Marinette with a fearful expression before doing so.

The girl stared after them dumbly, feeling her cheeks warm even further with guilt as she watched Adrien’s head of golden locks disappear after Plagg’s black cape into the castle.

*

*

*

When Adrien had followed the Potions professor into the castle and into his office, down in the dungeons, he had certainly been expecting some points to be deducted from Slytherin. A detention, definitely. He hadn’t anticipated a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch team as their new Seeker.

“Don’t get a big head, now,” Plagg had warned him. “This is only because we’re short one, because our Seeker and Team Captain, Vanessa graduated last year. Talk to the new Team Captain about the details. I forgot his name. You should be able to find him.” He stared at Adrien expectantly with dark eyes before rolling his eyes. “That’s all. Get out of my office, kid. Oh, and when you see Miss Bourgeois, tell her to see me immediately.”

The boy nodded and quickly did as he was told, fumbling with the door handle, and frowned in confusion as he walked back up to the first floor for Magical Theory, because Flying had already ended by now. Right before he entered the classroom, he stopped, replaying Plagg’s words again and again in his head.

_What just happened?_

Before he could open the door, he felt a presence beside him and looked up to see Marinette approach him, clutching her bag strap tightly. She wore an expression he couldn’t quite pinpoint: she was avoiding his gaze, but didn’t seem angry at him at all anymore. However, by the way she kept shuffling and the way her hands tightened on her bag strap every so often, he could tell she was still uncomfortable, and almost deflated on the spot.

 _No, Adrien,_ he scolded himself. _She’s not angry anymore; that means she believes you. This is progress._

“Hi, Marinette,” he said cautiously when she had failed to say something. She looked both grateful and surprised that he had spoken first.

“Hello, Adrien,” she squeaked. Her brow was creased in worry. Adrien frowned in concern, but didn’t say anything about how she was acting, afraid he would only make the situation worse. At least she was talking to him now… That was a good start, right?

“Let’s go in,” he suggested, to which she nodded absently. He resisted the urge to say something else and opened the door. Max wasn’t there — that was no surprise, poor guy — but Juleka wasn’t there, either. Adrien looked around in confusion.

“Oh! Juleka told me she had to make up for a Transfiguration test she missed,” Marinette explained, remembering. “I… I guess we’re alone in the lesson today.”

Adrien nodded as they sat at the front together. “Well, let’s make the most of it, then!”

If Marinette even saw the smile he offered, she didn’t let it show, and trained her gaze on the blackboard until Professor Tikki arrived. With a swish of her cherry-red robes, she gave them both a greeting before diving straight into the lesson, which was about something a little more concrete than abstract magical theory and spell-making: wands. Specifically, the powers a wand can possess, how it harnesses magic, and the process of creating them. Trying to take his mind off Marinette’s strange behaviour, Adrien flung himself into the world of wand woods and cores, which consisted of items he’d never even thought of: who would think to use Veela hair in a wand? It was ingenious!

“…which is why Mr Ollivander prefers these three cores for most of the wands he creates.” She stopped writing on the board, having completed a complicated table of all the properties of wand cores and woods, and gave both her students a smile. “Now, I’d like to know, what are your wands made of? Will you go first, Mr Agreste?”

Adrien nodded. “The wood is yew, with phoenix feather at the core,” he proclaimed, extremely proud of it.

Professor Tikki nodded with a smile. “What about you, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette absentmindedly rolled her wand in her hands as she answered. “Cypress, also with phoenix feather.” She frowned, as if remembering something and trying to pinpoint it. “Actually, Professor… Mr Ollivander told me something when my wand chose me. I haven’t been able to figure out what he meant, exactly.” She pursed her lips and Professor Tikki nodded in encouragement. “He told me that the phoenix that gave this feather gave _another_ feather, which is in _your_ wand, Adrien. Well, actually, he said it belonged to the Boy Who Lived, but… I now know that means that it’s you.” She stopped and shook her head right after she’d said it, feeling immensely stupid for even mentioning it. “Actually, it — it probably doesn’t matter.”

“Marinette, is this true?” asked Professor Tikki urgently, her dark eyes considerably wider than before. Adrien didn’t know whether to be more shocked by Marinette’s confession or by their professor’s reaction, but either way, it came as a surprise.

Marinette looked surprised that Professor Tikki had used her first name, and quickly nodded in response. “Is — is that bad?” she asked. “Mr Ollivander only said that it was the same phoenix.” Unknown to Adrien, she omitted the part about them doing great things together. It would only seem like she was making it up, anyway.

Professor Tikki looked deep in thought. “Well, you two… As it turns out, I, err, have to leave. Immediately. We’re about finished with our lesson, so you two can leave early. Have a good evening, dears!” With this, the professor hastily left the classroom, leaving the blackboard messy with notes and her books open on her desk.

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other, perplexed.

“Was it… Was it something I said?” Marinette asked, a worried frown once again creasing her brow.

Adrien shook his head. “I’m sure it wasn’t,” he assured her. He packed up his books and wand and put them in his bag. “I suppose we should do what she told us and leave early, then?”

Marinette nodded slowly, and followed Adrien out of their seats and out the door. After a few moments of walking down the hall in silence, Marinette stopped.

“It doesn’t mean anything bad, does it?” she asked him. He knew she meant their wands.

Adrien thought about this; as far as he knew, it meant nothing. He’d never actually heard of anything similar before, so it was a mystery to him as to how and why it was important enough to make their professor flee.

“I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “I don’t know what made Professor Tikki run off like that, but I’m sure it wasn’t you.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “Really. Believe me, Marinette.”

The girl looked up at his face again and seemed to study it. She flinched and looked back down, clutching her bag tightly again. “I… I should go finish my Transfiguration homework,” she said, flashing him a smile that didn’t seem genuine and walking off in the opposite direction, leaving Adrien alone in the hallway.

Adrien trudged back towards the dungeons, his thoughts full of Quidditch and wand cores and worry. Specifically, he was worried about Marinette. Did she believe him or not? Why was she avoiding his eyes?

 _Does she even consider me a friend?_ he wondered, eyes downcast. _I hope so._

That night, as he buried himself in emerald-green sheets, he dreamed of phoenixes and flying pocket-watches.

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	3. Quid-witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! First of all, thank you so much for the lovely comments and kudos, they really make my day! It's so motivating and I'm so glad you like it. I hope you like this chapter, I know it's a bit shorter than the rest, but more action is coming. Enjoy! :)

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**Chapter Three: Quid-witch**

In early October, the day came of Marinette’s first tutoring session with Adrien, and to say she was dreading it was an understatement. She was incredibly confused as to how she felt about it. On one hand, she wasn’t upset at Adrien anymore; on the contrary, all she felt was guilt that she’d ignored and hated him over a mere misunderstanding. On the other, she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him; being near him made her heart race in a peculiar way that she wasn’t sure she liked. Despite her reservations on the matter, Plagg had  arranged for them to meet in the library, and now she was pacing in front of the doors, nervously thinking of what to say.

Last week, when he’d apologised to her after catching Alix’s pocket-watch, she’d felt guilt consume her. Here was one of the only people willing to sacrifice himself in order to stand up to Chloé, and she had been ignoring him since their first day! And for no reason at all, no less. To say she felt nervous about meeting him again was an understatement: she didn’t even deserve to look him in the eye after what she’d done.

Finally, she breathed in deeply and pushed open the heavy oak doors to the library, determined to apologise to him as soon as the opportunity presented itself. When she found the Slytherin boy, however, he was slumped in his seat, staring out the window at the pouring rain.

She cautiously approached the table. “Adrien? Are you alright?” she asked.

He jumped, not having sensed her presence, and quickly forced a smile as he met her eyes. She knew it was fake the moment she saw it, but didn’t say anything.

“Hi, Marinette,” he said in greeting, collecting himself. He was trying his best not to make the atmosphere feel awkward. “I’m fine, just tired, is all. Let’s get started, shall we?” He pulled out his Potions textbook and a roll of parchment, and Marinette reluctantly followed his example, rearranging her things on the desk. She had a few things she wanted to discuss: some specific potions that she didn’t fully understand the purpose of, some ingredients she couldn’t comprehend the properties of, as well as some terminology that she hadn’t quite grasped the meaning of. It wasn’t that she hadn’t studied: it was a known fact that their textbooks were extremely confusing.

Adrien, she found, was an incredibly helpful tutor: he patiently walked her through each topic, and wasn’t at all angry or annoyed when she asked him to repeat it all several times as she took notes. She understood why Plagg had chosen him: he was incredibly knowledgable and seemed to understand Potions like it was as simple as breathing — but that made sense, considering he came from such a prestigious pure-blood family. He probably learned this on the same day he began to walk.

After two hours had passed and the sky began to darken, the rain having stopped an hour ago, Marinette had completed her Potions homework and was now caught up to everything they’d learned over the past month. She was still a little unsure about pain-relieving potions — they were a complicated topic — but Adrien promised to go over them with her another time.

As she gathered her books, she studied Adrien through her bangs. As soon as she’d directed her attention to packing up, he had visibly deflated and once again slumped in his seat. Marinette frowned and quickly sat back down, staring directly at him. He look up in alarm and quickly flashed a reassuring smile, obviously pained to force it.

“Well, today went great! As long as we practice for your practicals, you’re set to becoming the top student!” he said encouragingly, and Marinette almost mustered a smile.

“Thank you,” she said, and put away her books so she could direct all her attention to him. “Okay, Adrien, you’ve helped me for two hours now,” she stated. “Now _you_ tell me what’s wrong.”

Adrien looked puzzled, then shook his head. “No — nothing, nothing’s wrong,” he told her, trying his best to sound sincere, and failing despite his efforts.

Marinette stared hard at him until he averted his gaze. “Please,” she coaxed. “I… I’ve been so rude to you this whole time. I refused to listen to you after you were only trying to help me, and then I ignored you for ages. I feel horrible.” Her throat felt dry, and she swallowed thickly. “I want to make it up to you, if I can. So tell me what’s wrong. If I can’t help, then I can at least listen.” She offered him a smile, which he seemed to welcome as he sat up a little straighter. Even with her supportive smile, Adrien seemed unsure where to begin, but she sat patiently and waited for him to speak.

“I… My father is the head of a very big fashion, uh, company,” he informed her, not sure whether she was aware of who Gabriel Agreste was. She seemed to know that he was the famous Boy Who Lived, if what Mr Ollivander had told her was anything to go by, but he wasn’t sure who had told her his story. “And… Well, he’s very strict with me. I guess it’s because he’s so busy all the time. But he sent me a letter the other day about me becoming Seeker of the Slytherin team, and—”

“Wait, what did you just say?” Marinette knew it was rude to interrupt, but — had she heard him correctly? He was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team?! Nino had raved to her the other day how First Years were rarely ever accepted into the teams — in fact, the last First Year Seeker had been over a century ago! How had he gotten in?

“Oh — yeah, Plagg offered me the spot after the whole scene with Alix’s watch,” he confirmed sheepishly. “But it barely matters now. He seemed really against it, even when I reassured him it was going to be safe, because it’s just a sport.” He sighed. “I asked Plagg to speak with him, in any case. Maybe that will change his mind.” He sounded uncertain despite himself.

Marinette nodded in understanding. “But even if your father ultimately won’t let you,” she started, “that’s really amazing, Adrien! Nino told me a First Year student hasn’t been accepted into a Quidditch team in ages! Much less as the Seeker. That’s a huge accomplishment,” she said with a proud look. He seemed to brighten at this, so she continued. “It’ll all be fine. If Plagg vouches for you, I’m sure your father will see just how talented you are, and understand how important this is to you. And hey — with you as Seeker, maybe Slytherin will even win the House Cup,” she suggested, though she knew it was likely anyway. Slytherin had won the House Cup four years in a row now, although the odds had been hurt because their Team Captain — was it Valerie? Vanessa? — had graduated. Well, according to Nino, anyway. She needed to stop agreeing to listen to his Quidditch rants…

“Maybe…” Adrien murmured. He flashed Marinette a grateful smile. “Thanks, Marinette. You really know how to cheer someone up. And — for our whole misunderstanding thing — don’t worry about any of it. I’m just glad we’re on the same page now, and…friends?” He added the last part in a hopeful, questioning tone, and Marinette was more than happy to agree.

After they had packed up, Marinette shyly suggested they go down to the Great Hall together. It was already seven o’clock, and her stomach was grumbling. She was glad she had helped him a little, in any case, but she knew she still had a lot to do in order to fully make it up to him.

On their way to the Great Hall, Marinette felt herself warm up to him a little. After he had helped her patiently for two hours, and then felt comfortable enough to confide in her with his personal issues, Marinette had a hunch that they were friends. Or, at least, soon to be, in more than name only. She hoped they would remain friends; everything Nino had said about Adrien was true. He was clever, funny, and incredibly kind, as well as understanding and thoughtful. She now understood why the young Lahiffe liked the Slytherin so much.

When they reached the Great Hall, as they said their goodbyes and headed to their respective tables, she hatched a plan to get him a gift of some sort as soon as possible. It had to be personal and absolutely _amazing_ if she was going to patch things up between them properly.

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Over the next few weeks leading up to Halloween, Marinette tried her hardest to be as nice to Adrien as possible to make up for lost time. She actively sought him out during lessons they had together before Chloé could beat her to it, and found that her now-permanent Herbology partners — Nathaniel and Adrien — quickly became her favourite combination of people to work with in class. Marinette also found herself looking forward to Magical Theory, and sat next to Adrien in every lesson. She was glad it was going so well: if anything, he should be mad at her for behaving like such a brat, but he didn’t hold anything against her. For that, she was utterly grateful.

Much to Chloé’s chagrin, but to Marinette’s relief, Adrien seemed to reciprocate her acts of friendship, and was soon feeling more and more comfortable around her. He understood now why everybody seemed to like Marinette so much, regardless of their House, and why Nino spoke so highly of her. He was glad he’d taken Nino’s advice to tell Marinette it had truly been an accident on their first day — without that confession, he never would have gained such a valuable friend. Not only were his classes with Ravenclaws considerably more enjoyable (and almost completely Chloé-free) but taking Magical Theory had also been a bonus, as it soon became one of his favourite parts of the week: spending an hour with Marinette and being consumed in magic and its background was a great escape from his less-enjoyable duties.

Sometimes, Marinette even joined Adrien and Nino in their extra flying lessons, and found that although she wasn’t a naturally talented flyer, she wasn’t too bad. With the boys’ help, she learned to balance correctly on the broom, and even how to fly with only one hand. She had seriously underestimated it: flying wasn’t so bad, after all! Without the pressure from peers’ prying eyes, practicing soon became one of her favourite things to do. Even Chloé’s degrading comments about her posture and technique had decreased.

As a group of four, Marinette, Alya, Nino, and Adrien found themselves to be quite inseparable, despite all belonging to different Houses. Marinette couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever made such fast friends — except maybe with her fellow Ravenclaw Housemates such as Juleka and Nathaniel, who had almost lost his stutter completely around them. Even though Nino and Alya were childhood friends, neither Marinette nor Adrien ever felt left out, and they never went a day without laughter. They did their homework together every day, and Marinette found that this helped her compare answers and understand topics much faster. It also made learning about cauldron thicknesses or the precision of wand movements a lot more bearable — fun, even!

One cloudy day in late October, while Marinette and Alya were waiting for the boys in the courtyard to start their Charms homework, they were interrupted by a loud whoop coming their way. Marinette turned, pigtails bouncing, and saw Adrien and Nino running over to them, shouting with glee. Adrien had a piece of parchment in his hand, and he was waving it about excitedly.

“Marinette! Alya!” He stopped in front of them, catching his breath, and held out the parchment. “Look! Look at this!”

“What’s that?” Alya asked, pointing at the parchment. It looked like a letter.

Adrien gave them the biggest smile Marinette had ever seen. “Plagg spoke to my father. He did it! I’m allowed on the team! I’m the new Seeker!”

Marinette broke out into a smile and grabbed his hands, jumping up and down with a shriek of joy. “That’s amazing! Congratulations, Adrien! I knew it would work!”

“There’s one problem, though,” Alya said, holding the parchment. “First Years aren’t allowed brooms. Does your father know that?” She scanned the letter, but there was no mention of a broomstick anywhere. Marinette glanced at it, and found that it was very short and curt, written in loose cursive, as if it had been rushed.

“Way to be a downer, Alya!” Nino smacked her and she exclaimed, smacking him right back.

“Oh,” said Adrien, sound very quiet. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Merlin, I hadn’t even _thought_ of that.”

“You can’t use the school’s brooms,” Nino piped up, pulling a face. “They’re _ancient_. You’d have a better chance of winning on a twig than those things.”

“Mari, you alright there?” Alya waved her hand in front of the girl’s face. “You’re spacing out again, girl.”

Marinette was frowning, deep in thought, and snapped up at Alya’s question. “What? Oh! Yes. I’m fine. I just remembered — I have to speak to Professor Tikki about something. About Charms,” she quickly lied, grabbing her bag and bolting. Before she was out of earshot, she yelled over her shoulder: “Congrats again, Adrien!” Her voice echoed through the courtyard, and she saw him give her a thumbs-up from a distance.

When Marinette knocked on the professor’s door, she was thankfully in her office, having a cup of tea and grading homework, her signature red bottle of ink on her desk with a spotted feather quill. Her hair had been styled into an elegant bun, and shone like rubies in the light of the fireplace.

“What can I do for you, dear?” she asked, lowering her spectacles. Marinette didn’t even know she wore glasses.

Marinette was catching her breath from running. “Well, you see, Professor, it’s about Adrien…”

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Adrien couldn’t believe it. His father had given him permission to be on the team! He was going to be the youngest Seeker in over a century! Even now, a week after he’d gotten the letter, he couldn’t quite believe it. It seemed too good to be true. He had immediately sent a letter back, expressing his deepest gratitude and promising to live up to the Agreste name. That seemed to please his father even more: if his son could become a well-known Seeker, he could add ‘sportsman’ to the boy’s resume and earn himself another trait to exploit in his modelling career. A win-win situation.

One Friday morning, Adrien was looking forward to being done with Transfiguration and History of Magic so that he could get to flying practice with Nino and Marinette. The girl insisted she wasn’t a natural, but he’d never seen someone learn to fly with only one hand so fast. If he wasn’t careful, she could give him a run for his money one day in the Quidditch department.

As he finished up his breakfast, he was greeted by his three new best friends, and gave them a confused look as they unapologetically sat down at the Slytherin table.

“Uh… Morning,” he said, swallowing his mouthful of eggs. He cautiously looked around and saw that they were already receiving dirty looks. “Guys, why are you sitting here?”

Nino mocked offence and dramatically draped a hand over his forehead, his yellow-and-black tie already coming undone. “Oh, I get it! You don’t want us here!” he cried. “That’s fine, then. Come on, girls. Adrien’s too good for us, now.”

Despite the fact that he knew it was a joke, Adrien exclaimed, rather loudly, “No!” He’d even stood up for impact. As he sat back down, he nervously scratched his ear. “I don’t mean it that way. It’s just… Never mind. I’m glad you did, honestly.”

Marinette smiled from beside him. “It doesn’t have to be a permanent thing,” she reassured. “Besides, I can easily slide back to the Ravenclaw table; it’s right behind us. I’ll be like a ninja, only more sneaky.”

Adrien laughed. “Right, and your main motivation would be, what, stealing bowls of oatmeal and eggs on toast?”

She gave a cheeky grin. “Yep! And no one will ever see me coming.”

Alya snorted and chose a pear from the bowl of fruit on the table. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng: the girl who stole breakfast foods!” she proclaimed, sniggering.

“Du _pain_ isn’t my last name for no reason," she said, and Adrien snorted at the pun.

“I think you’re the one who’s stealing food now, Al,” Nino corrected, which earned him a smack on the shoulder as she bit into the pear. Just then, faint hooting filled the Hall, echoing above them. Marinette looked up and saw a dozen or so owls enter the room, dropping off packages and letters, and couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” she admitted, and gasped in surprise as a barn owl swooped down low enough to graze her pigtails with its wings.

“Hey, is that one coming our way?” Alya asked, pointing towards a snowy owl that was, indeed, headed for their table. It had a long, thin package, which it dropped strategically on top of Adrien’s plate, splattering his eggs all over the table.

“Great. Thanks, Jagged,” he groaned, giving the owl a stroke.

Nino let out a laugh. “Dude. You named your owl after a rockstar?”

“I love him!” Marinette exclaimed, tentatively reaching over and stroking the owl’s soft chest. It hooted and rustled its feathers before it took off.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Alya asked Adrien, gesturing at the package.

He looked at the package curiously and wasted no time in ripping the paper off. He gasped in surprise as this revealed the new Nimbus 2000, the _exact_ model he’d been dreaming of for over a month!

“Holy—” he started, but cut himself off. “This is… This is amazing! Guys, I think it might be from my father!” He beamed at them with a thousand-watt smile as he carefully held his new broom, as if it was made of pure gold.

Marinette looked at the boy next to her, perplexed. Well. This certainly hadn’t gone as planned. She had specifically asked Professor Tikki and Plagg’s permission to get Adrien his own broom, because he _was_ a First Year, after all, and had  _then_ pitched the idea to Nino and Alya, who readily agreed to split the costs for their new friend, as short a time as they had known him. Plagg had, however, insisted on paying for most of it — “For Slytherin’s victory,” he had told them proudly — so they had eventually only ended up paying a tiny amount each. It had taken a few days to order it, and it had been a bit tricky to get it sent to Adrien by owl post so that Jagged could pick it up (rather than Nino or Alya’s owl) but they’d eventually managed to succeed.

What she didn’t expect, however, was for all their credit to be wiped away.

When she saw Nino’s mouth open, ready to correct him, she caught his eye and quickly shook her head. After all, how could they possibly ruin his happiness after his excited smile had lit up the entire Great Hall? She couldn’t do that to him — especially after she already owed him two weeks’ worth of happiness. No, it was better to let him think it was a gift from his father. Perhaps, that way, Adrien’s relationship with him would improve over time.

And if Adrien eventually found out it _wasn’t_ from his father, he would certainly understand. Wouldn’t he?

As Marinette once again glanced at the boy beside her, whose green eyes were sparkling, she nodded to herself. He’d understand.

“Come on, Mari, Nino!” he said, standing up with the broom grasped between two giddy hands. “Let’s go test it out!”

The three left at the table laughed. “Dude, we have lessons in fifteen minutes,” Nino reminded him. “After class, though, we’re going to ride the _hell_ out of that thing. I call first dibs!” he said quickly, much to Marinette’s dismay.

“If anything, I need the most practice,” she pointed out, and her pout was enough to convince the two boys. Her eyes gleamed as she smiled at them, crumpling up the card that said ‘To our Seeker Boy! From Nino, Mari, and Alya’ behind her back.

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	4. Buddy, Fluffy, and Fido

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the kudos and comments! You're all so so lovely and you absolutely make my day. More action in this chapter - it's the beginning of where 'Miraculous Magic' becomes an appropriate title. Hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day! :)

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**Chapter Four: Buddy, Fluffy, and Fido**

Chloé couldn’t _believe_ the day she’d had. In all her eleven years of life, she had never been this exhausted or irritated. First, Sabrina had announced that she had become ill with some common bug, so she had the audacity to ask Chloé to do her own schoolwork for the day. Her back was aching from carrying all her books; they’d had a joint class with Hufflepuff today, which was Hell because Adrikins was with that Lahiffe boy; it had rained earlier, so her hair and uniform were ruined… The list went on. And now, to top it all off, she had to visit the library for some stupid assignment for Professor Wayzz.

The _library._ Who knew what filthy hands had touched all these books over the years? She gagged at the very thought. Only looking at all the dusty, cobweb-covered books made her want to run out and never return. Libraries had never been her favourite place: at home, it was where her father always was with his advisors and fellow ministry officials, and their conversations were more stale than the overcooked toast her House Elf at home used to make. Oh, those drab memories alone were enough to ruin her entire day.

But this? This was too much. She knew that Adrien didn’t approve of her little stunt with the pocket-watch a few weeks ago — and yes, perhaps that had been taking it too far, but that cocky Gryffindor girl was just as obnoxious as her father, who was a political opponent to Minister Bourgeois — but she hadn’t expected him to start socialising with Muggle-borns out of spite or anything. Yet here he was, in the library, sitting across from that — that — that little girl, that Marinette Whatever-The-Cho-Chang — and laughing over homework together. She had heard rumours of their tutoring sessions, which were on Plagg’s apparent orders, but she knew that the House Master of Slytherin himself would never resort to making his star pupil — the living legend and protégé, the kid-celebrity and pure-blood heir of the Agreste fortune and fashion empire — teach potions to some simple little Muggle-born in pigtails.

Oh, for Merlin’s sake. Chloé couldn’t stand to look. They were constantly everywhere, ruining everything, those Muggle-borns! What was that word her nanny had taught her again? Oh, yes. Those _Mudbloods!_ She simply couldn’t understand why anybody would want to associate themselves with them, least of all Adrien Agreste. Every day of their childhoods — which they had spent a fair portion of together, as they were only ever allowed to play with a short list of pure-blood children — they had been told of their noble birth, their rights as pure-blood wizards and witches, their superiority above all others. And while Chloé readily agreed — because of _course_ she was superior to any Muggle-born witch — Adrien had always been less outspoken of his views. As a child, she never questioned it: most of the time, she talked, and he seemed more than happy to listen.

That was their relationship, give and take.

Giving and taking.

Well, of course, Chloé gave back occasionally! She wasn’t selfish. She more than once had given him an expensive brand-name gift, for Christmas or his birthday or even just because she felt affectionate that day. Never an Agreste fashion item, of course; Adrien always had everything he wore personally designed by his father. She envied that: her own father was only a politician, and more recently, the Minister for Magic. And while she was proud to carry the Bourgeois name, she didn’t get any personally-designed clothing or a modelling job. She got political campaign badges and pamphlets. It wasn’t nearly as exciting. If her Mama was alive to see this, she wouldn’t stand for it.

But, despite Chloé’s envy for Adrien, she could never envy the kids he was stuck with now at Hogwarts. She had definitely noticed when he’d started to hang out with that Lahiffe boy, who was poor and a Hufflepuff, yes, but a pure-blood at least. After that, she couldn’t say she approved of him socialising with that Half-blood, Alya, but at least her dad worked for the Daily Prophet, which was respectable enough. But now that Adrien was personally tutoring that Muggle-born big-mouth, Marinette, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

And oh, he wasn’t only socialising — he was helping them! Tutoring them! Laughing with them! Touching their arm while he gave them his special smile, which softened his eyes oh-so-slightly and always made you melt right in front of him—

And, well, alright, perhaps that smile had never been directed at Chloé before, but she _knew_ Adrien. She did! They’d known each other ever since they were in nappies, so she could say for certain that something like this had never happened before. Honestly, she felt a little betrayed. She thought they had been close. They had spent their whole lives together, and had even been Sorted into Slytherin together; that alone had been the perfect opportunity for them to get even closer, not for him to defile his name by spending time with Mudbloods. No, she certainly hadn’t expected him to stoop this low after a lifetime of fine company, but she needed to stop it before it got any worse. Who knew what his father would do to him if he ever found out? If Chloé Bourgeois — who considered herself quite tolerant, as her family went — couldn’t stand for it, she didn’t know what Gabriel Agreste would do. All she knew was that this _Mudblood_ girl was so far beneath them, she might as well be six feet under.

After Chloé checked out the book she needed for her Herbology homework — she rolled her eyes again; what a chore…couldn’t Sabrina be better yet? — she devised a plan: a plan to help her poor Adrikins get rid of that stupid Muggle-born for good. When he saw the light, he’d be sorry he ever even set eyes on that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, let alone became her friend.

Satisfied, Chloé returned to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room, ready to make that Mudblood know her place, which would _not_ be anywhere near Adrien, or even at Hogwarts.

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“…challenge you to a duel, tonight at midnight?” Marinette read aloud, utterly confused. She read the note again, which had been slipped into her bag at some point that day by somebody totally unknown. At first, the strange anonymous note — addressed to her by name! — had looked curiously exciting, but the contents only baffled her. Who could possibly want to duel with her? She barely knew five spells — and mostly only useless Charms — let alone to the capacity that she could fight successfully with them!

Besides, she was sure that yelling “Lumos!” or “Wingardium Leviosa!” wouldn’t do much in a fight, and only wind up getting her landed in the infirmary. Or, worse, in Headmaster Fu’s office! She had been furiously catching up on wizarding culture by reading _Hogwarts: A History_ , and knew for a fact that any unsupervised, underage duelling was most definitely against the rules. Let alone being out of bed after their curfew! If her parents heard of this, she knew they would be disappointed. She didn’t want that to happen.

But still, if anybody had a problem with her, she needed to know _who_ and _why._ She’d been at Hogwarts almost two months now, and even as it was nearing late October, Marinette hadn’t done much except go to classes, talk to her friends, and read late at night in the Ravenclaw Common Room. She hadn’t even had much time for designing clothes, let alone create a violent rivalry with a nemesis.

Marinette frowned in confusion as she played with the remains on her plate, and finally sighed, dropping the fork along with her appetite. She’d read and re-read the note dozens of times and still didn’t under _stand_.

Alya reached for the note across the Gryffindor table, where Marinette had decidedly taken a seat against the strange looks she received, and studied the handwriting closely before shaking her head. “Sorry, girl. I have no idea who this is. It sounds really formal and to-the-point, like an older guy…” She frowned, deep in thought. Marinette was briefly reminded of those old detective movies that Tom liked so much. “So this mystery opponent wants to meet you tonight at midnight in the Trophy Room, huh?” she murmured, taking a bite of steak-and-kidney pie.

Marinette nodded, taking the note back and re-reading it again. “I know where that is, but it’s pretty far from the Ravenclaw Common Room. If I need to run, I’ll be in trouble…” she mumbled. She knew the route, but it was risky. “Still, who could have given me this? Who would want to risk a detention and being caught out of bed just to fight _me?_ ”

She received a shrug for an answer. “I don’t know, girl. I mean, who could possibly hate you enough to fight you? Maybe a Slytherin who—” Alya stopped with a gasp, realisation hitting them both at the same time.

“Chloé!” they said in unison.

“Of course!” Marinette exclaimed, banging her head against the Gryffindor table, earning her a few stares, and groaning. How had she not thought of it before? “What do I do, Alya? I don’t want to fight her!” she wailed, looking up at her red-haired friend with pleading eyes.

“Well we’re going, of course!” Alya decided fiercely, finishing off the rest of her pie. When Marinette protested, she said, “No, wait, Mari, listen! We need to show her we’re not afraid. And you need to stand up to Miss Thing more often, anyway! This could be the perfect opportunity to shut her up for good.”

Marinette pulled a face. “She hasn’t done anything recently except the usual taunts and remarks, and I can handle those. I don’t want to risk a detention. This is against so many of my morals — and not the mention so many school rules!” she said, getting more heated by the minute. “ _And_ it could be dangerous! I don’t want to use violence to settle a one-sided rivalry, Al. Come on, this isn’t a good idea. Let me just stuff my face and forget about this whole—”

“Nonsense!” Alya interrupted, banging her hand on the table for good measure, earning a few more looks from the other Gryffindors. “We’re going! And you have no say in this whatsoever, girl. We’re doing this thing, if only for your honour!”

Marinette was getting worried, now. “Alya—”

“Nope!” Alya interrupted again, shutting her up. “That’s final! I’m going to go find Nino — he has to come, he knows more about duelling than we do. Meet us in front of the Trophy Room at ten minutes to midnight, and bring your wand.” With that, she fled the table, leaving a groaning Marinette behind.

Marinette didn’t want Alya to go without her, and certainly not bring Nino into this. Knowing Nino, he would also have told Adrien, who would then of course also want to come. She knew Adrien was too loyal and kind to let it go, and wondered why exactly he had been placed in Slytherin. Marinette, however, didn’t see Alya or Nino for the rest of the day, and didn’t want to tell Adrien herself for fear of him tagging along because of her. So she had no choice but to go.

That night, after everybody had gone to bed, Marinette’s stomach was in knots as she paced the hallway leading up to the Trophy Room. She had gone in and out about five or six times, but Alya and Nino were nowhere in sight, and it was now five minutes to midnight. In fact, neither Chloé nor Sabrina — nor another challenger, for that matter — had shown up. Her anxiety was growing by the minute. It had been incredibly difficult to get out of the Common Room quietly, and to walk all the way down here without anybody finding her. Every noise made her heart jump in her throat and made her want to run back until she was safely under her soft midnight-blue covers, surrounded by the other unaware sleeping Ravenclaws, safe and sound.

When she arrived, fearfully glancing around, she had found the Trophy Room completely empty, save for a several hundred shiny trophies and medals, and it had been for the past half hour. The daunting, echoing emptiness did nothing to calm her nerves. She bit her lip as she continued pacing, checking her watch again. Four minutes to midnight.

“Mari!” Alya suddenly said behind her, and Nino shushed her immediately. Marinette had jumped at the sudden noise, but her face flooded with relief at the sight of the two, both in their pyjamas and holding their wands.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here,” she whispered, rushing over to meet them.

“Hey there!” Nino whispered back. “You ready to kick some prissy butt?”

Marinette shook her head quickly. “Chloé isn’t in there. No one showed up,” she told them.

Alya frowned. “That’s so strange…”

“I asked Adrien to investigate Chloé,” Nino admitted, “and he hasn’t told me anything. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding…”

Honestly, deep down, Marinette was beginning to think that this was all some elaborate prank. She couldn’t figure out _why_ — why anybody would want to slip her that note and leave her waiting for nothing — but it was the only reasonable explanation.

Her suspicions were confirmed when, out of the dark hallway, Adrien ran up to the three, out of breath and panting. He was wearing his pyjamas, which looked very chic and expensive, with his initials embroidered on the lapel and breast-pocket, all made of dark green silk. In contrast, Marinette was wearing her pink nightgown — it was completely unsuited to fighting because deep down, she had no intention of duelling — and Alya had on orange sweatpants and a matching sweater, while Nino wore a shabby pair of tartan pants and a worn-out shirt with a faded turtle on it. It was almost comical, how mismatched they looked.

“Guys!” Adrien whispered harshly. “You have to go back to your Common Rooms, quick! I heard Chloé talking to Sabrina about a note she gave Mari—”

“So it _was_ Chloé!” Alya exclaimed almost triumphantly, earning herself a chorus of shushing.

“Yes,” Adrien confirmed, quickly looking around to ensure they were alone. “Listen, Nino, you were right, it was all a setup. A trick to get you in detention, or _worse_ —”

“Suspended?” Marinette asked in mortification.

Adrien shook his head. “ _Expelled._ You need to hurry back, or—”

Heavy footsteps headed in their direction stopped the four students’ hearts in their chests. They saw a looming shadow headed their way in the dark corridor, flickering in the torchlight, and bolted in the opposite direction, ducking behind the nearest pillar they could find.

“Quick!” whispered Adrien, pulling his friends towards the stairs. “This way!” They rushed up the steps, but stopped dead as the stairs started moving up and up. Marinette had to internalise a scream as she held onto the railings for dear life. This had never happened before! What should they do?

“Oh _no!”_ Marinette exclaimed once she saw where they were headed. “We’re going to the third floor!”

“That’s prohibited, isn’t it?” asked Alya, looking truly worried for the first time that evening.

Marinette nodded. “We need to get down as soon as possible—”

_“Who’s there?”_

The four stopped talking as the voice boomed through the castle — Marinette recognised the voice of the school concierge — and they bolted into the nearest corridor as soon as the stairs stopped moving. Marinette was afraid their echoing footsteps and quickening breaths would somehow wake up all their teachers, let alone her racing heartbeat, but they didn’t stop. They ran past a dark, unfamiliar hallway, unlit by torches, until they found a door.

Nino tried to open it. “It’s locked!” he whispered, fear seeping into his voice. Marinette pushed herself forward, wand out, and quickly unlocked it with an urgent, “Alohomora!” The four slipped inside the dark room as quietly as possible and closed the door, leaving it open just enough so they could see.

More footsteps.

Marinette’s heart slowed as she saw the concierge approach them, a lantern in his hand, and released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as he passed right by them, muttering to himself. The hallway grew dark and cold as the light from his lantern disappeared with him down the hall. His footsteps gradually disappeared.

“Okay, let’s go,” Adrien decided as soon as he was definitely gone. “We have to go downstairs.”

“Yeah, we’d better. I don’t like it up here,” Marinette said.

“Oh, and you think I do?” Nino asked sarcastically. “And _whoever’s_ sniffing my hair, you better cut it out, _Alya_ —”

“It’s not me!” the girl protested from the opposite side of the room.

“Then who—”

The four immediately froze at the sound of low growling coming from directly behind them, and then slowly turned around. Through the darkness, Marinette couldn’t see where it was coming from. She raised her wand and murmured, “Lumos,” and the tip of her hand burst alight. She looked around and had just found the source of the growling when they all let out a collective scream and scrambled for the door.

Before them in the tiny room was a humungous beast of a creature, with three dog’s heads emerging from its massive torso, a spiked metal chain connecting its collars to the wall. Saliva dribbled from the three heads’ bared teeth, and Marinette fumbled to open the door as quickly as she could, her hands shaking and eyes wide. The dog wasn’t attacking, but its body was tensed, ready to attack, growling and baring its teeth. As soon as the lock clicked, the four tumbled out of the room, locking the door behind them, and ran as fast as they could, not stopping until they were safe in their respective Common Rooms. Their hearts didn’t slow until sunrise.

*

*

*

The next morning, Adrien groaned as green-tinted sunlight entered his dormitory. Usually, waking up to the cool-toned light streaming in from the waters of the Black Lake was a visual treat, but he hadn’t slept a wink since last night, and his sensitive eyes screamed for rest. Nevertheless, he pulled himself out of bed and dressed as slowly as he could, moving like a zombie. For a moment, he thought of last night, and his heart almost stopped beating in his chest, but he forced himself to wash my face and slap his cheeks until he felt alert and awake.

“Adrikins, whatever happened to you?” Chloé asked him once he’d sat down at the Slytherin table. He looked himself over, confused.

“Your jumper’s on backwards,” Sabrina told him, pointing at his chest. He looked down and saw that she was right, and quickly reversed it, pulling it over his head with a yawn muffled by the woolly fabric.

“You should really get to bed early, Adrikins,” the blonde reprimanded him quietly. “Lack of sleep causes wrinkles, you know. Your father certainly wouldn’t approve…”

Adrien tried not to roll his eyes at the mention of his father, and instead tore a piece off a roll and popped it into his mouth. It tasted bland, but he internally laughed at the possibility for a pun: _eating a roll, while rolling my eyes_ … He chuckled to himself. He would write that down for later.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, he silently sat through Chloé and Sabrina’s morning gossip, and seriously considered confronting her about the note to challenge Marinette to a fake duel. It was dumb luck that he’d overheard them talking about it in the Common Room last night: if he hadn’t been there at exactly the right time, his friends would be in big trouble. Not that he’d been stalking them, or anything, but after Nino tipped him off that something might be going on, he hadn’t let them out of his sight. He’d been right to do so, apparently, or else now Marinette, Alya and Nino might be in the headmaster’s office on the way to the Hogwarts Express, possibly never to return.

But, instead of confronting Chloé now without consulting the others, he decided to keep quiet and sit through their mundane chatter until he saw Marinette trudge into the Great Hall, looking just as tired as him, but far more focused: she had an ancient-looking book on magical creatures in her hands, and was struggling to hold up the massive volume as she walked to her House table.

He noticed Chloé’s evident disappointment as Marinette walked in, looking tired, but quite unsuspended, judging by her regular school uniform and bag full of books. This only made Adrien more upset at Chloé, but he didn’t let it show. He only hoped she wouldn’t draw any comparisons between Adrien and Marinette’s similar tired appearances.

“Morning, Mari,” he called when she was close, to which she looked up. She gave a relieved smile and swivelled around on the Ravenclaw table bench so that they were facing one another, leaning their backs against the tabletops. It felt rather nice, he had to admit, to be able to talk to Mari this way without drawing too much attention. While he wished that he could sit with all his friends for every meal, he knew that a Slytherin at the Gryffindor or Hufflepuff table wouldn’t be very accepted, or vice-versa. He was glad Ravenclaws and Slytherins had less of a rivalry.

As Marinette rubbed her eyes and reached for some coffee instead of pumpkin juice, he noticed that she’d bookmarked several pages in the huge book with the pink and red ribbons that she usually wore in her hair. Today, though, it was unbrushed and unbound; the dark circles under her eyes only helped complete the look that he himself also currently sported. He had to admit, it wasn’t a good one. Though he also had to admit Mari looked really cute with her hair loose. It was straight, and reached just below her shoulders. It suited her.

“So,” Marinette said, which brought Adrien out of his trance, and back to the book she was holding. “I’ve been looking up any information I can find on, err…Buddy, Fluffy, and uh, Fido,” she said slowly for lack of better term. Adrien would’ve laughed, offering up more dog names, but he recognised the gravity of the situation. The mere thought of the dog — dogs? — shot familiar, terrifying fear straight to his gut.

“But those, uh, _puppies_ are hard to pin down,” Marinette continued as Adrien tried to swallow the fear along with another bite of his roll. She flicked through the pages, sighing. “The closest I can assume is some sort of rare chimera, which I _know_ isn’t right…”

Adrien leaned forward and squinted to get a better look at the yellowing pages of the book. The illustrations were tiny, as was the writing. “Still, you did an amazing job, Mari,” he praised. “All I did was worry about it all night. I should’ve thought to research…”

Marinette waved off his praise, but a pleased blush crept up to her cheeks. “Not at all,” she said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “We already had this lying around the Common Room. There’s not much else besides books in there,” she told him. “I can’t find anything about the room, though. There’s nothing in _Hogwarts: A History_ and there are no maps of the school…”

Adrien looked up, confused. “The room?” he asked. What on earth did it matter? It was what was _inside_ the room that mattered.

Marinette nodded, leaning closer to him so no one could overhear. “Didn’t you notice what it was standing on?” she asked.

Adrien mutely shook his head.

Marinette lowered her voice. “That — _thing_ — was standing on a _trapdoor,_ ” she told him, one hand up to cover her mouth, disguising the action as scratching her cheek. “I saw it has a lock.”

“Really?” Adrien asked in surprise. How had he not noticed that? Well, to be fair, he’d been fairly occupied with the great and terrible beast before him. He hadn’t thought once to look down. “I wonder what they keep there…”

“It could be dangerous.”

“It could be a _treasure_ of some kind,” Adrien countered. “If we could get past it somehow—”

Marinette firmly shook her head. “It’s forbidden,” she reminded him, shutting the book firmly. “We can’t risk it. We could have gotten into a mound of trouble yesterday for simply being out of bed — imagine what would happen if they knew where we went!” She had taken on a forceful whisper, and Adrien wanted to argue, but after the pleading look in her eye he reluctantly agreed. She gave a tight smile. “So, are you still up for flying practice after Magical Theory today?”

*

*

*

“Now, students, this particular creature is a famous one in both the wizarding and Muggle words,” Professor D’Argencourt told them as he wrote out the page number for them to open. Mylène slowly took out her copy of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection,_ a worried expression painted on her features. Of course she had to have DADA on Halloween. Of _course._

To say that Mylène didn’t enjoy Defence Against the Dark Arts was an understatement: she loathed it. She always wondered if there was any way to get out of the mandatory lessons, but never found an excuse good enough. Of course, she wanted good grades! She just couldn’t stomach any more descriptions of a monster or ghoul that could _and_ would eat her the first chance it got… She shuddered. She’d had enough nightmare fuel to last for years from this class alone.

When she opened the page number and found a chapter on werewolves, she almost fainted. All colour drained from her face and she quickly shut the book, her hands flying to her beating heart.

“Ha! Just as I expected of a Muggle-born,” Chloé sniggered behind the Hufflepuff girl. “Look, Sabrina! I think she’s even shivering! Aw, is she afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?”

Sabrina laughed, despite the fact that she herself sent worried glances at the textbook every so often, also slightly uncomfortable with the topic. Mylène tried to ignore them and kept her gaze forward as Professor D’Argencourt explained how to clean a werewolf bite.

“…and that mixture of powdered silver and dittany must be applied to a fairly fresh bite,” he told them, sticking a photograph of a werewolf bite under the projector. Mylène felt bile rise in her throat. “This mixture will allow the affected witch or wizard to live on as a werewolf. However, there are many tales of victims who have begged for death after being bitten…” He showed them a picture of a witch on her knees, her hands up in prayer, with a massive, bloody mark on her arm. Mylène clenched her fists, trying to look away from the pleading faces of the illustrated victims as the professor switched to the next picture of a werewolf mid-transformation.

“I mean, if you can’t even manage to stomach this, how on earth is she going to manage the rest of the year?” Chloé asked. “The poor dear… Once we learn about children-eating hags, she’ll never sleep again.”

“Stop it!” Mylène yelled, losing her patience with them. She turned to the two girls, fuming. “It’s not my fault!”

“Of course not,” Chloé agreed. “It’s because you’re not a real witch, darling.”

Mylène’s lower lip trembled.

“Oh — I think she’s going to cry,” Sabrina said in surprise. Her tone wasn’t taunting like Chloé’s, but it did enough. Tears escaped Mylène’s eyes as she grabbed her bag and fled the classroom, much to the professor’s confusion. He called after her, but to no avail, and turned to the two Slytherin girls, arms crossed, and deducted five points from Slytherin from each of them.

But Mylène didn’t hear her bullies being scolded. She ran into the nearest girls’ toilets, slammed the stall door shut, and bawled her eyes out for what felt like hours. Her lower lip simply gave way and her breathing rattled her chest and she was shaking and couldn’t seem to stop. Oh, why would Chloé make fun of her like that? It wasn’t her fault! She was just afraid of frightening creatures! It had always been this way. Monsters were simply scary. That was natural! Her reaction was normal.

 _It’s not because I’m Muggle-born,_ she told herself, sniffing. _It’s not! Chloé’s lying!_

She cried until it was dark and nearing dinnertime. Unbeknownst to her, a single black butterfly had followed her all the way down the corridors and into the bathrooms, and was perched upon her open Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. The book fell onto the floor on the page Mylène had been dreading — werewolves — and the butterfly perched on the page, and slowly merged with the paper. Suddenly a voice — soothing and cold and dark all at once — filled her mind:

“My dear girl,” it said, echoing in her mind. “Of _course_ you are a real witch. Your birth doesn’t make you any different to any other witch or wizard at your school. It’s that girl, Chloé Bourgeois, who is obviously inferior to you. Look at how terribly she treated you, over something you have no control of.”

Mylène nodded to herself. The voice had some sense. He understood her. “That’s true,” she agreed, sniffing.

“Well, would you like your taste of revenge, my dear girl?”

Mylène froze as the purple outline of a butterfly singed itself into her face. Her eyes went cloudy and dull as the Dark magic seeped through her and the butterfly fused into the pages on her textbook.

“Yes, Dark Lord,” she answered, her tone flat. Revenge. She needed revenge.

“Good,” the voice in her mind said. “In return, I need you to find some very special items and bring them to me.”

*

*

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun... Any guesses what might've happened, kids? Is Hawkmoth back?!  
> Stay tuned! ;)


	5. The Other Butterfly Effect

*

*

*

**Chapter Five: The _Other_ Butterfly Effect**

When it was dinnertime on Halloween, Marinette was delighted to find that the Great Hall had been decorated and no expense had been spared. She’d already had a wonderful day of Charms, improved results in Potions class, Magical Theory and helping Alya out with her journalism article for _The Owl Post_ while Adrien and Nino practiced flying. Back home, Halloween had always been a fun holiday. While she never went trick-or-treating, because it wasn’t a Parisian tradition, the Dupain-Chengs always decorated their home and their bakery with paper cut-outs of ghosts and bats, and carving pumpkins with silly faces to put in the window of the bakery. Tom would bake special black and orange macarons, cupcakes and cookies, and Sabine would always help Marinette with whatever elaborate costume she had set her heart on creating for the holiday. Best of all, at night in the bakery, the candles in the pumpkins created a homely glow and heavenly smell, which Marinette wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

But here, in the Great Hall, Marinette had to admit that the Hogwarts way was much more impressive than the Dupain-Chengs’. Giant pumpkins sat perched on all the tables, glowing from within, and carved with menacing faces that changed facial expressions when you looked at them. Smaller pumpkins floated above their heads, glowing a beautiful orange glow, and stopping only to occasionally shriek at one another. But, above all, a feast fit for a thousand kings had been laid out for them, complete with special-edition pumpkin juice that emitted a frightening howl when you sipped it. The students immediately dug in with no reservations.

Marinette enjoyed her fill of pumpkin pasties and a peculiar black soup that looked like murky swamp water, but tasted deliciously like tomato and basil. She laughed as a bat flew quite close to Nathaniel’s head, almost tangling with his hair, which was as red as his embarrassed blush. Even Juleka laughed. She seemed completely in her element here, and the sparkle in her eye betrayed how happy she was at the black lace tablecloths and enchanted purple-and-orange floating candles.

The evening got even better when dinner disappeared and dessert was presented to them: a mountain of treats had been prepared that made even Marinette gasp, and she lived in a _bakery_. Cakes ladened with dripping black goo that was really chocolate; glowing puddings shaped like bats and vampires; fruit covered in cotton-candy cobwebs; caramel apples that gleamed a poisonous red. She was about to reach for a ghoul-shaped cookie when a blood-chilling scream echoed through the Great Hall, silencing the chatter at once.

“A monster!”

Half the hall turned at the sound, and the other half jumped in their seats.

“A monster!” Professor D’Argencourt yelled again as he ran past the tables, his footsteps and heaving breaths the only source of sound in the room. “A werewolf! In my classroom—” He stopped suddenly. “Just thought you ought to know,” he said, and collapsed onto the marble stones.

Chaos broke out. The students screamed, forgetting their sweet treats altogether, dropping the food they were holding on the tables and rushing to stand up and file out of the Great Hall to the safety of their dorms.

“Silence!”

The command boomed through the Hall, effectively stopping all the students in their tracks as they turned to Headmaster Fu with new-found fear and respect. The old man stood, rather anticlimactically as he hardly towered over anyone and could barely even reach the table. Marinette realised that they had never heard him raise his voice before.

“My children, let your prefects take you to your Common Rooms,” he said. “Professors, I will need you all to follow me to Professor D’Argencourt’s classroom. Oh, and please, Professor Nooroo, won’t you take the poor man to the infirmary? Thank you.”

As everybody rushed to do what they were told, the old headmaster calmly led his staff out of the Great Hall. Amaya and Yaqoob as well as the older prefects beckoned the Ravenclaw students to follow them, and Marinette was about to do so before she saw Juleka rooted in place, talking to a shaking Rose.

“Mylène’s been missing for _hours,_ ” Rose was saying, tears filling her eyes. Juleka held her hand in both of her own, trying to comfort her amidst the chaos. “Right after Defence, when Chloé kept mocking her for being scared of werewolves… I don’t know where she is! What if something happens to her? She’ll be so frightened—” She cried into Juleka’s arms as the taller girl soothed her hair and brought her to a Hufflepuff prefect.

Marinette frowned and stood on her tiptoes to glance over the crowd. She couldn’t see Alya and Nino — all of Gryffindor was already gone out of the Great Hall, followed closely by Hufflepuff, in order of the table — but Adrien was still there at the Slytherin table, waiting with the rest of the students for his turn to leave.

“Adrien!” she whispered harshly, grabbing his arm. He looked at her, alarmed. “Mylène is missing,” she told him. “Rose was saying that — that Chloé was making fun of her in Defence today. She could be anywhere!”

Adrien’s alarm intensified to determination. “We have to find her,” he decided, making a mental note to talk to Chloé after this was all over. First the fake duel, then this… This wasn’t acceptable anymore.

“No, we have to tell a prefect, or, or a professor—”

He nodded. “Wait! The professors all went to the Defence classroom,” he remembered, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. “Let’s go tell them!”

They followed the sea of students until the first floor, where they quietly slipped into another hallway without being noticed. Adrien didn’t let go of her hand until they heard a loud bang from a classroom to their right, the door ajar. Both jumped back in surprise as there was another bang.

“What was that?” Marinette whispered, taking out her wand. Adrien did the same. Cautiously, the two approached the door where the noise had come from. It was an abandoned classroom, and they weren’t anywhere near the Defence classroom yet… What could it be? A professor looking for…supplies…?Oh, Merlin, she sure hoped so. Marinette took a deep breath for courage and peaked through the gap between the door, and gasped.

“That’s Mylène’s bag on the floor,” she told the boy beside her, and carefully pushed the door open. It creaked as the two stepped inside.

“Mylène?” Marinette called, keeping her voice low. “It’s me, Marinette! Are you there?”

There was no answer, but the pair heard a rustle behind them. They turned, wands out protectively, and shook in terror at the shadow looming over them, towering over their small forms.

Blocking the door was a werewolf standing on its hind legs, teeth bared and claws frighteningly long and sharp. Its shoulders were hunched forward, its eyes glinting menacingly. It was growling, but did not approach them. Instead, it seemed to be looking around and sniffing the air, as if searching for something. All the drawers and cabinets had been forced open, the contents spilled out over the floor.

“Don’t. Move,” Adrien whispered, eyes wide. He slowly reached for Marinette’s hand for comfort and starting reaching for Mylène’s bag as the creature turned away from them, still looking around. “On the count of three, run for the door,” he said, pulling the bag over his shoulder. “One, two—”

The werewolf sensed their next move and pounced on them. The two jumped out of the way, hearts racing, and Marinette raised her wand to the creature. She stared at the claws that could have easily sunk into her skin and shivered.

“Stupefy!” she cried forcefully, and failed as light blue sparks came alive and instantly faded, not even reaching two feet ahead of her. “Stupefy!” she tried again, and succeeded: the blue light hit the werewolf, and it stopped in its tracks before falling to the floor with a dull thud. Pleased with the successful Stunning Spell, Marinette was about to bolt, when she noticed a rectangular object tucked underneath the monster’s hairy arm. She cautiously walked over to it and reached out to grab it — was it a book? — when the wolf snarled at her. Marinette’s eyes were blown wide in fear. The spell had worn off! but how? It had only been a few seconds!

Marinette tried to jump back, but the wolf was faster. It raised its other paw, claws out, ready to strike her and slice her in two, and Marinette cried out before she could think to raise her wand.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Adrien yelled. The wolf’s paw remained in mid-air, frozen there. Adrien was concentrating hard, keeping his wand-hand steady. Marinette quickly grabbed the book and ran back as the monster yelped, trying to shake its arm loose from the invisible hold keeping it in mid-air.

Marinette looked at the object in her hands. “The Defence textbook?” she asked, confused. “What does… Oh. Oh, no.” Her fingers clenched around the cover, gripping it so hard she was almost tearing it in two. The inside cover, old and worn, had Mylène’s name written in it in bubbly handwriting. She felt tears prickle in her eyes, but refused to let them fall; it wasn’t the time. So the wolf had already… No. She didn’t want to finish the thought.

“This is Mylène’s,” she told Adrien, her voice thick. He gasped before he could respond, and his charm failed as he lost concentration. The wolf quickly jerked its limb back and bared its teeth. It was now growling directly at them, and raised its head to howl once. Marinette spied a broken cabinet behind it and quickly raised her wand again before Adrien could ask what she was doing.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” she said carefully — _swish and flick,_ she thought — and the cabinet lifted into the air, wobbling slightly, threatening to drop under her inexperience. It was heavier than expected; she held her wand tightly as she raised the wooden debris as high as the ceiling, and brought it down forcefully upon the monster’s head as fast as she could. It yelped and fell onto the floor with a heavy thud, unconscious. Its paws twitched.

Adrien raised his wand alongside Marinette, ready to hex it if need be, when Professor Tikki and Headmaster Fu burst through the door. They took one look at the unconscious monster and the two students before rushing over to them. Professor Tikki openly gawked, her mouth open in shock.

“You two!” she cried, running over to them, checking their faces for any sign of blood, wounds, _anything_. She heaved a private sigh of relief when she found them unharmed. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing? You’re just children! It isn’t safe—”

“Did you do this?” the headmaster asked, indicating the wolf. Adrien and Marinette glanced at each other. Should they be honest? Well, there was no real use in lying to them. If they got into trouble for  heading up against a dangerous monster, they would deserve the punishment they received. Adrien seemed to read her mind, and both shared one look of confirmation before they nodded.

“We’re so sorry, professor,” Marinette started, nails digging into the textbook she still held. “Mylène had disappeared, and, and we wanted to find you, to find her, but it’s too late,” she finished, voice breaking. “It had this in its paw,” she said softly, holding up the book. “It’s Mylène’s.”

Headmaster Fu gingerly took the book from her trembling hands, examined it, and then looked at the werewolf. He stared at it for a long moment before he nodded to himself, almost in understanding, and flipped the pages of the book with quiet concentration, apparently looking for something. He found the page and Marinette almost cried as she saw what chapter it was: _werewolves_. The headmaster then carefully ripped out the paper, and then — to their collective surprise — ripped it in two.

“Professor! Why—” Adrien started, then gasped as a black butterfly appeared out of thin air, as if bursting from the rip in the page. The headmaster quickly held up his wand, cast an unspoken spell on it, and it disappeared.

Marinette was stunned. “What — what was that?” she asked in surprise, sniffing. “Why was that butterfly in Mylène’s book? What is it?”

Adrien looked uncomfortable next to her, and he was about to speak when Professor Tikki gasped. They turned to her, and found the werewolf gone: in its place was Mylène, still unconscious. The headmaster didn’t look surprised.

“Oh my — how — Merlin!” Marinette exclaimed. “Mylène? Is — is that really—”

“Thank goodness,” Adrien whispered, voice breaking with relief. “Oh, Merlin. Thank goodness.”

“Professor Tikki,” said Headmaster Fu, “take this poor girl to the infirmary, please. She has had a long night and will need plenty of rest for the next few days.”

The professor nodded and levitated Mylène into the air, holding her head up securely as she quickly left the room, leaving two very confused First Years behind.

“Professor, I don’t understand,” Adrien started. “Mylène — was she — she’s a _werewolf?_ ”

“Tell me, my child: is it a full moon tonight?”

Marinette looked outside, only for a crescent moon to grin at her. She looked back at the professor as the pieces started to fit together in her mind, but it didn’t make it any clearer. “Of course she’s not,” she said to herself. “I thought it was strange — Professor D’Argencourt told us before that only on a full moon — but then — _how?_ ”

The headmaster handed Adrien Mylène’s book, which he looked at for a moment in confusion and awe before tucking it into the girl’s bag. He’d return it to Rose or another Hufflepuff to give to Mylène after she had recovered.

“My children, your friend is alright now. She is safe, so you needn’t worry,” he reassured the two frightened First Years. He gave them both a stern look. “What you did tonight, however, was completely irresponsible. I am deducting fifty House points from each of you.” Neither protested; it was beyond fair. “Facing a fully-grown werewolf, whether it was real or not, is something that I would never advise even the most skilled wizard to do. You were both very stupid, and very, _very_ lucky.”

At his own words, he stopped for a moment, and looked hard at Marinette. He pursed his lips in thought.

“Meet me in my office tomorrow at four o’clock tomorrow, Miss Dupain-Cheng. We have something to discuss. Now off to bed with both of you.”

They scrambled out of the room, hearts knocking out of their chests and their minds unable to keep up with what had just happened. Both knew that posing questions did no good: one was just as confused as the other. Before they stopped at the stairs, where they would go their separate ways — Marinette up to the Ravenclaw tower, and Adrien down to the dungeons — Marinette gave Adrien a long look before enveloping him in a hug. She felt him tense for a split-second before hugging back.

Adrien was taken aback for a second or so — he wasn’t used to getting hugs — but soon returned her embrace, putting all his fear into a long squeeze. He hadn’t realised that they were both shaking. Although hugs had never been his favourite gesture — he hadn’t had enough to decide — this was more comforting than anything he knew.

“I was so scared,” Marinette admitted, tears streaming as she burred herself in his robes. “I can’t think of — I’m just so glad Mylène is alright. I… I could have killed her,” she whispered, her voice unbearably small. “If I hadn’t been careful, I could have—” She stopped herself short with a sob, and Adrien let her cry as he felt his own tears falling, unable to stop them. The two remained there for a long moment before they eventually parted, wiping away their tears, and went their separate ways for another long, sleepless night.

*

*

*

“I’m terribly sorry you have to be late to the Quidditch match for this. I do hope you don’t miss it. But I’m afraid I have a very full schedule today,” Headmaster Fu said sincerely as Marinette arrived in his office at four o’clock as he had instructed. He was sitting across from her, smiling down from the great chair behind his desk, which was cluttered with several dozen golden instruments that Marinette couldn’t recognise the function of. There was one clock that seemed to tick backwards in time, and a pair of odd scales that were simply labeled as ‘Weigher of Words’ in fine gold print. There was even a dead-simple golden lighter, which seemed completely ordinary, especially against the mystical items littering the rest of the desk. The old headmaster had more mystical objects cluttering every surface of the room, from a strange old-fashioned record player to several small, clouded mirrors in the corner. Marinette knew that even if she investigated all the items in this office, she knew she wouldn’t stop getting surprised or mystified by each new object.

Along the walls were paintings — the enchanted kind, the ones that moved — of what Marinette assumed were past headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. Most of them were asleep, or not even in their frames, despite the fact that their gold or silver plaques proclaimed their names and years of service to their school. That was quite magnificent to see, too.

The thing that impressed her most of all, however, was the sheer amount of books the headmaster owned: he had over a thousand lining the walls alone, leaning against the windows in towers that threatened to topple any moment, and he probably had more in his private quarters. The Ravenclaw Common Room was nothing compared to his office’s collection. From the strange contraptions to the lazy turtle in the corner in a large glass tank to the mountains of papers and scrolls and books, it was almost too much mystery and mystique one place: the entire room left Marinette in awe.

Regarding the Quidditch match, it was an understatement to say that Marinette was disappointed: she’d been devastated to miss the very first match of the season, which, more importantly, would be her first time seeing a match in real life. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin, and while she didn’t have any older Gryffindor friends on the Quidditch team to support, she wanted to at least be there for Adrien; it was his first ever match, and she wouldn’t want to miss that for that world.

When she met the headmaster’s eyes, though, she knew this must be important.

“So, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” the headmaster began, his expression impeccably controlled. Marinette couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking at that very moment. “Professor Tikki tells me you have an extraordinary talent in Charms.”

Marinette flushed. This was a surprise: she’d expected…well, she didn’t quite know what she had expected, but she thought they would at least talk about what had happened with Mylène the other night, but she was sure it was coming. “Thank you, sir, but I just…study a lot,” she mumbled, looking down at her hands in embarrassment.

“No need to be so modest, child. I’ve seen the impact of your abilities,” he said, and she knew that he meant the incident with Mylène. She hadn’t seen the Hufflepuff girl yet — she was still in the infirmary — but she’d already made her a card and an enchanted bouquet of flowers that wouldn’t wilt until she got better, so her bed in the infirmary would be bright and floral for as long as needed.

The headmaster’s tone turned serious. “Again, I must stress that it was incredibly foolish of you to go after us. It was brave, yes, and selfless, no doubt. But bravery paired with selflessness is often a combination ending in certain doom,” he told her in a grave voice. “Your friend, Miss Haprèle—”

“I’m truly sorry, sir!” she squeaked, flushing in mortification. “We only meant to find you and tell you that Mylène was missing. Rose — Rose Lavillant — she said Mylène had been missing since Defence class — and we had no idea where she could be, and you’d all gone, so we just wanted to—”

“Marinette! Marinette, calm down. There’s no need to get upset,” he said gently. Marinette gulped and forced away her tears. The headmaster conjured up a pink handkerchief, and gave it to her. She took it gratefully in case any tears spilled. “I only say this because I worry about you. Your safety is in my hands while you attend Hogwarts, and heaven forbid any students get hurt under my watch.”

Marinette hung her head in shame. She understood, and she definitely regretted what she and Adrien had done last night. It was a miracle that Adrien was in any shape to play the match today, and an even bigger miracle that he’d been allowed to. Their deducted House points hadn’t been the biggest drawback, though: they’d both had another sleepless night to add to their growing lists, as well as the crippling guilt and fear. It wasn’t exactly something she was eager to be repeating soon.

But a small part of her — deep down — whispered that _of course_ she’d always go after her friends in danger.

That frightened her more than a little.

“Now, I’m sure you have many questions regarding the incidents of last night,” said Headmaster Fu, and reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a glass bowl with a golden lid. In it was the black butterfly that had suddenly appeared from Mylène’s book, and Marinette stiffened as she heard it flap repeatedly against the glass, trying to escape.

“That butterfly—”

“Not a butterfly,” the headmaster corrected, “an _Akuma._ I’m sure you are familiar with the Dark Lord Hawkmoth?”

The way he said those words — that name, which sent a chill down her spine — made her believe that she knew exactly who he meant. “Is — is that You-Know-Who?” she asked tentatively, hoping she was saying it right. “You mean — the one that tried to — Adrien—”

The headmaster nodded patiently. “Yes, child. I’m assuming you know the story?”

She nodded her head yes.

“So you must know about the prophecy?”

She nodded again.

“Ah,” he said, seemingly relieved. “Well, that saves a lot of time.” He indicated the Akuma, which was still fluttering around in the glass bowl. “This creature, an Akuma, belongs to the same Dark wizard who tried to kill Adrien not so long ago. It was his trademark weapon, so to speak. One Akuma contains enough Dark magic to consume a person whole, their mind and body, and Hawkmoth, essentially, controlled them. You have already seen its effects on Miss Haprèle. Of course, it varies from person to person and what emotional state they are in, but it is always Dark and always dangerous. I recognised the effects because I knew it was not a full moon, and a Polyjuice potion was very unlikely. Unfortunately, Mylène, especially, was very badly affected. She became her fear itself… Poor girl.” He sighed, and then gave her a very serious look. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, Akumas are incredibly dangerous. They can appear at any moment when a wizard or witch is feeling vulnerable and upset — any negative emotions can trigger the unknowing  summoning of an Akuma — and they can corrupt anyone, until they are no longer themselves. Akumas are common knowledge to wizards and witches now, as they have lived through the Dark Lord’s time and told cautionary tales to their children, but I wanted to make sure you knew of the dangers, so you don’t do something like this again.”

Marinette nodded. She refused to think back on the terror she’d felt when she saw the transformed Mylène, with her bared teeth and razor-sharp claws. If that had only been one example, she shuddered to think at what else could happen. At least, she reasoned to herself, now she knew, and she knew how dangerous it was.

“Oh, and one more thing, Miss Dupain-Cheng; Professor Tikki told me something curious about your wand,” the headmaster suddenly said, and Marinette looked at him, confused. What did this have to do with the Akuma? Nonetheless, she slowly nodded, thinking back to that Magical Theory lesson when their professor had rushed out of the room.

“Well,” she said, “it’s nothing bad, sir, as far as I know. When I bought my wand, Mr Ollivander told me about the feather, and the phoenix—”

“Yes, yes,” the headmaster said, “I know. Its twin feather resides in Mr Adrien Agreste’s wand, yes?” Marinette nodded. He seemed to consider this, as if it was new information. “I’m sure you will do great things together,” he murmured, and Marinette paled at the accuracy of his words. They mirrored Mr Ollivander’s almost exactly. Had he…?

“Hold out your hand, Marinette,” Headmaster Fu told her suddenly, and she was confused again by the change in subject, but did as he instructed. She almost screamed when the old headmaster began to unscrew the lid of the glass bowl.

“Sir!” she squeaked. “The Akuma—”

“Keep your hand outstretched,” he told her, and she reluctantly complied. The butterfly flew towards her upturned palm, and she felt blood rush through her ears. Then she cupped her other hand over it as Headmaster Fu commanded her, and closed her eyes tight in fear.

“Now concentrate, Marinette,” Headmaster Fu told her with a stern voice she couldn’t disobey. “Think of light. Think of happiness.” She thought and thought, flashes of her parents and Alya and Nino and Nathaniel and even Adrien forming in her mind. “Think hard, now. Remember your friends, remember your family—” He stopped speaking as a bright, white light suddenly erupted from her hands, and he smiled, apparently pleased. Marinette slowly opened one eye, and then the other, and saw that the butterfly in her palm was now a bright, bright white. She blinked in disbelief.

“Sir…” she whispered. “What did I just do? Without my wand, how did I…?” She stared at her hands and at the white butterfly in awe. It was beautiful, and escaped from her hands to flutter around the room, perching briefly on Headmaster Fu’s pointed hat.

“You purified the Akuma, Marinette.” The headmaster smiled as the butterfly flew free, and escaped through the window. “It is harmless now.”

“Purified?” she repeated, still staring at her palms. “How did I do that?”

“It is quite a complicated matter, I’m afraid, and will have to wait for another time,” Headmaster Fu said regretfully, then suddenly sat up, apparently startled at one of the golden contraptions before him. “Oh! Four-thirty already! I’m so sorry, but I have another meeting to attend. Oh, Marinette, one last thing,” he told her in a serious tone, and she sat up, nodding attentively. “You must promise not tell anybody of this. It is most important that you keep this ability strictly secret. It could be dangerous if word got out that you have this power.”

Marinette nodded again in understanding. She got up, and started walking towards the door, when a question that had been haunting her ever since he uttered the Dark Lord’s name burned in her mind. She turned to face the headmaster. “Sir,” she said quietly, “when you said the Akumas belonged to the Dark Lord — Hawkmoth — and since it’s in the school… Does that mean…?”

The headmaster seemed to understand where she was going with this, and quickly stood up, holding his hand out to silence her. He shook his head. “The Dark Lord has been gone for eleven years, my child,” he reassured her, “and for those eleven years his loyal followers and companions have continued to create scares — hoaxes — _specifically_ to ensure panic. I can assure you that people have been Akumatized long after the Dark Lord was pronounced dead, and that no threatening Dark activity has been found anywhere in England, Scotland, France…or anywhere in the globe. But, Marinette, I can assure you that if the Dark Lord were ever to return — Merlin forbid it — I would protect all my children, at all costs. You will all be the first to know. I would never keep you in the dark on such a serious matter.”

Marinette nodded slowly, unable to think of anything to say as thousands of questions raced through her head, and thanked him. He offered her a final smile, and before she knew it she had been ushered out of the headmaster’s office and was walking towards the Great Hall, still confused and still staring at her palms, the butterfly’s graceful flutters still tickling her skin. So she could purify the Dark Lord’s Akumas: what did it mean? She still hadn’t fully understood what Akumas even did, even though she could remember what happened to Mylène in micro-detail. Last night’s event seemed to refuse to leave her thoughts.

Suddenly, the great silence in the castle reminded Marinette of another event that hadn’t left her thoughts since that morning. She quickly checked her watch. _It’s four thirty-two! I can still make it for Quidditch!_ It had only been thirty-two minutes since the match started, give or take; Nino had told her that a regular match usually lasted about an hour — though there was one match that had famously lasted three months — so she was probably still in time.

With renewed energy, Marinette tried to leave the Dark Lord and Akumas behind her as she ran outside towards the Quidditch pitch. She’d only been there once or twice — usually for Nino and Adrien to rave about the size of the stadium — but remembered the way. However, as she descended the grassy hill down from the castle to the field where the pitch was, she saw hundreds of students already walking back towards the castle, and stopped in confusion. There was no way the match was already over — it had barely been half an hour!

She walked until she met the crowd, and though they were mostly older students, she kept walking until she saw Alya and Nino, wearing their House scarves and holding gold flags with a red ‘G’ and a lion on them. Curiously, Nino also had a silver flag was a green ‘S’ and a serpent in his other hand, probably for Adrien. That made her smile, were she not disappointed that the match was already over. She walked towards Alya and Nino, and both of them were whispering quietly to each other; a stark contrast to the excited chatter of everyone around them.

“Don’t tell me the match is already over,” Marinette said when she reached them. She readjusted her cloak around her; it was cold, a chilly wind was blowing, and she wished she had her Ravenclaw scarf, but it was up in the Common Room in her trunk.

Alya and Nino exchanged a look before they each took one of her arms and dragged her away from the crowd. Marinette gave them a confused look and struggled walking backwards in the wet grass, until finally they stopped and exchanged another look.

“What?” Marinette asked, utterly lost.

“You tell her,” Nino said, giving Alya a push.

Alya took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. “Okay, so during the match, we—”

“We think Professor Plagg is trying to kill Adrien,” Nino blurted, and Alya gave him an incredulous look, resisting the urge to pummel him for giving Mari the wrong idea. “What? We do!” he said, hands up in his defence.

“Yes, but that’s not the best way to phrase it!” Alya cried. “Okay, what Nino said, but it’s not that simple. During the match, Adrien’s broom was going all crazy, moving without him — like it was hexed and trying to make him fall off. We think only Dark magic could have done something like that, especially since he’s _Adrien Agreste_. And — get this—”

“Plagg was concentrating super hard on Adrien, wouldn’t let him out of his sight, and was saying stuff under his breath the whole time! We saw his lips moving!” Nino all but exclaimed. “So we set his robes on fire—”

“You did _what?_ ” Marinette cried, wishing more than ever that she’d been there.

“We crawled under the stands and we needed to stop him, so, we did the only thing we could think of!” Alya said, and this time her tone was defensive. Marinette couldn’t blame them for trying their best, but she did think that setting off a fire in wooden stadium stands wasn’t the most responsible idea. She really needed to teach them some science.

Nino wasn’t done talking yet. He was obviously getting excited, waving his flags around. “But Adrien was amazing! He caught the Snitch in record time, and — get this — he stood up on his broom, all heroic, and reached out to catch it — but he tumbled off his broom, onto the grass, and we thought he would be seriously hurt, but then he sat up and opened his mouth and took out the Snitch! He caught it in his _mouth,_ Marinette! It was like nothing I’d ever seen before!”

“It was really impressive,” Alya admitted, even though Quidditch wasn’t her favourite sport. Marinette knew that it had taken convincing on Nino’s side to get her to come. “I’m glad Juleka was taking photos, because I want to write about it for _The Owl Post_ and she’s doing photography for us—”

“That’s great and all, guys, but what was this about Plagg wanting to kill Adrien?” Marinette asked with a panicked look. “You set his robes on fire, and then what?”

“Oh. Well, he stopped bewitching Adrien,” Nino said simply. “And he basically jumped onto Professor D’Argencourt, screaming the whole time, it was really funny. And then Adrien caught the Snitch! So…that’s the end of that. We sure scared him—”

“Does Adrien know?” Marinette pressed.

Nino looked at Alya, and they slowly shook their heads. “Well, no, he’s not even back yet. He must be changing,” Alya guessed. “Let’s tell him tomorrow — it’s Saturday, so we can hang out in the morning, far away from any prying eyes. Or ears,” she added.

“There’s no way he would’ve been able to see Plagg bewitching him, though,” Nino said.

“Hm,” Mari murmured, deep in thought. “But now I just want to know: why would he? Why would Plagg want to intentionally sabotage the Slytherin team? He’s the House Master of Slytherin, after all…”

“We’ll figure it out,” Alya assured her, taking her arm. “We’ll use any means necessary!”

Marinette nodded. She was still disappointed that she had missed the whole match, but she hoped Juleka would show her the enchanted pictures so that she could see Adrien catching the Snitch. And now, she had three things to worry about: Fu’s words about her ability to purify Akumas, the possible threat of Hawkmoth’s return, and now Plagg’s apparent attempt to kill her friend. And she couldn’t even talk about any of it!

To cheer her up, Nino recounted the match in detail to her while they returned to the castle, and at dinner, Juleka promised to show her the photos when they had been printed. As a Half-blood, she knew a bit about Quidditch from her mother, and had taken both Muggle and enchanted photographs that she seemed quite passionate about. However, Nathaniel told her he hadn’t attended the match, because he knew nothing about Quidditch and wasn’t so keen on the dangerous Bludgers and fast pace of the flyers, so he went to the Muggle Art classroom to work on some of his pieces instead. Marinette ate her dinner slowly as her friends spoke, not engaging in as much conversation as usual, thinking about what everyone had told her about the match, and Headmaster Fu’s words never far from her mind. She needed to talk to Adrien as soon as possible, but each time she looked behind her, she only saw Chloé and the other Slytherins.

When Adrien finally entered the Great Hall, wearing his Slytherin robes and his hair damp — he’d probably taken a shower and stuck around with the Slytherin Quidditch team after the match — a crowd of people at the Slytherin table stood up and clapped. Even a few Ravenclaws called his name from across their table, cheering for him. The boy smiled and scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, bashfully denying any claims of “You’re amazing!” or “You’re the best Seeker in the world!” He seemed happy with the praise, as modest as he was. He seemed just as surprised as anyone else that he’d managed to actually catch the Snitch, and that they had won the match. It was still overwhelming, but exhilarating at the same time.

Marinette wanted to catch his eye, but he seemed to busy. He never looked up at the Ravenclaw table to look for her, and after a few moments, Marinette slumped into her seat, disappointed. Maybe Adrien was upset that she’d had to miss the match? It wasn’t exactly her fault, especially considering what had happened yesterday… But she had more things to worry about. Namely, Hawkmoth and Akumas, Plagg trying to kill Adrien… Oh, Merlin. It was too much.

“I’m going to bed,” she announced to her friends, and quickly left the Great Hall. She had to let out all this fear and frustration and confusion, and just wanted to get lost into the world of designing for a while.

Unbeknownst to her, Adrien had watched her leave the Great Hall, confused. He’d wanted to talk about yesterday’s events and ask about her meeting with Headmaster Fu, and she hadn’t even said hello. That confused him. He assumed her meeting hadn’t gone well, then. She probably hadn’t slept, either. He knew he hadn’t. He’d been afraid it would affect the match, but at least that had gone well. And everyone seemed to look up to him! He had to admit, it felt nice to be appreciated for something he deserved, unlike being a pure-blood or an Agreste, which hadn’t been his doing. The Quidditch, however, had been all him, and he finally had something to be proud of.

He made a note to speak to Mari tomorrow as soon as possible. They had a lot to talk about. But for now, he’d take his mind off his worries and eat dinner with his team. He deserved a little break, at least for now.

*

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter - a bit more action, a bit more explanation, and a lotta lotta dialogue. Let me know what you think! What would you like to see in future chapters?
> 
> My friend is coming to stay with me for a week, so I might not be able to update as frequently, but will try! Hope you guys are having a great summer :)


	6. Christmas Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I made some edits to this chapter, Chapter 7 will be up soon!

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**Chapter Six: Christmas Wishes**

The next morning, Adrien had been excited to spend some time with his friends in the courtyard, do their homework together, and sneak some food outside for lunch. However, November decided to bring with it rain, and consequently ruined each student’s Saturday plans with a bleak and grey sky and heavy rainfall that made it impossible to see three feet in front of them. It had been raining since last night, but Adrien hadn’t noticed then, because the Slytherin Common Room was underneath the Black Lake, anyway. But as soon as he woke up, the absence of sunlight streaming through the green waters and into the Common Room made it darker and colder in the dungeons.

So now, the four friends had agreed to meet up together in the library, where Marinette had asked them all to see her after breakfast. She’d been there for a while already, with books on magical creatures propped open in front of her. She had been trying to research not only the three-headed dog, but also Akumas after learning about them yesterday, and had found nothing so far. It was frustrating, to say the least.

When Adrien arrived at the library, he found Marinette holed up next to the window, furiously going through a large, rather intimidating volume about what appeared to be magical insects. It was open on a page about flesh-eating moths, and Marinette was frantically skim-reading through each line of the ridiculously small print.

To make himself known, Adrien slowly took a seat opposite her, so as to not distract her. Marinette immediately looked up, startled, and slammed the enormous book shut, dust flying.

“Adrien! Hi! Doing here what are — I mean what would doing be — what are you doing here?”

Adrien almost laughed. He always did whenever Mari stumbled over her words like that. But something about the air seemed serious, so he didn’t.

“You told us to meet you here, silly,” he reminded her, giving her a playful prod on the forehead. This seemed to fluster Marinette even more, and she pulled away, throwing the book into her bag.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” she said. “Well, let’s wait for Alya and Nino. We have something…important to tell you.”

Some unsettling feeling nestled itself in Adrien’s stomach, and he didn’t feel like laughing anymore. Marinette had returned to a different volume about magical monsters — likely to help their search for the three-headed beast — and he decided to take his mind off the matter by going through one of the thick volumes that were scattered on the desk. After reading about chimeras, trolls, and selkies for maybe ten minutes, Alya and Nino strolled in, getting shushed by the librarian immediately for “walking too loud.” (Although to be fair, Nino’s enchanted headphones blasted music wherever he went, and the hiphop didn’t mix well with the library’s atmosphere.)

After Alya and Nino had sat down, and Marinette had finally put her giant volumes on magical creatures away, each of them looked Adrien in the eye and started explaining to him that his potions professor and Head of House was trying to, in fact, murder him.

Now Adrien _really_ didn’t feel like laughing.

“You’re joking?” Adrien said finally, after all three of them had scrambled to explain what had happened yesterday during the Quidditch match. Adrien had thought it was bizarre for the broom to act that way — it was brand new, but maybe he hadn’t tested it out enough, or he had been too nervous. It certainly hadn’t crossed his mind that somebody could have bewitched it to try and kill him.

“No,” Marinette, Alya, and Nino answered in unison.

“Wait, wait,” Adrien said, holding up his hands and trying to clear his mind. “Why would Plagg want to do that, exactly?”

“Well, I mean,” Alya said, “we hadn’t exactly thought of that yet.”

Everyone was silent. Adrien was fiddling with his tie, the silver and dark green looking particularly drab in the poor lighting. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined his Saturday would go.

“Well,” said Adrien finally with a slight frown, breaking the silence, “we don’t know exactly what was happening or why, so I say we just stay on the lookout for Plagg and be careful. After the whole incident with the werewolf—” He stopped, and suddenly remembered that Alya and Nino were completely oblivious to what had happened that night. They didn’t know about Mylène, and certainly not about the — Adrien gulped — the Akuma. He quickly looked at Mari for guidance and saw her, blue eyes wide, and she quickly nodded.

“About that night,” Marinette started, “there’s something you two need to know…” In a jumbled rant, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin told the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff about what had happened that night, not leaving out any details about the werewolf, Mylène’s book, or the Akuma. They did, however, leave out anything concerning their wand cores, and Marinette still hadn’t told anybody about her meeting with Headmaster Fu, remembering his warning not to — not even to Adrien. It felt wrong, to be keeping such a large secret about her strange ability to purify the Akumas, but she knew Headmaster Fu would have had his reasons for not wanting anybody to find out, even Adrien.

When they were done, Nino’s mouth hung open in shock, and Alya looked both surprised and impressed, but managed to keep her composure.

“Well,” said Nino, “you two sure are one brave pair. You sure you’re not in Gryffindor?” he asked, mostly as a joke, and gave Adrien a light jab in the shoulder. Adrien looked mildly uncomfortable, but forced a smile and pretended to punch him back. Marinette was quick to notice, but decided not to ask him about it now.

When the four broke up for lunch, the rain hadn’t stopped, and they spent the remainder of the day indoors. Marinette and Alya managed to get some work done, while Adrien had already finished his — the model student that he was — and Nino messed around with his enchanted headphones.

One by one, the weeks went on, until November died into December, and it was almost time for the Christmas holidays. Nothing eventful happened for the entire month — Plagg was not at all acting suspicious, there were no more Akumas, and there would be no Quidditch matches until after Christmas, so the four had little to occupy their time with save for their schoolwork.

The day of Christmas break came, and Marinette had already packed her trunk and arranged to leave by Floo Network with some other Muggle-born children, with Professor Tikki’s supervision. They would leave after the regular children took the Hogwarts Express back to King’s Cross Station. She would have taken the Hogwarts Express, but Professor Tikki would not take them as far as the Leaky Cauldron again, and Marinette had no hopes of navigating Diagon Alley alone and get to Paris on time. She was excited to go back home: her parents were always busy with the holiday season, baking festive cakes and treats, and she couldn’t wait to be back in her old world for a little while. She missed Paris and all its sights, and more than anything, she missed her family. It would be a nice break to be back.

Alya, in contrast, was not so excited. She wanted to stay in the castle, and explore, and possibly find another three-headed dog to write about in her journalism diary. Nino was also far less excited than Marinette, claiming that being stuffed in one house with all his siblings — he had six of them, he once told a very envious Marinette, who would love a big family — was pure torture. Adrien, however, was happy to go home and see his father, and to perhaps talk to him about his school life so far, but was met with disappointing news the day of the start of the holidays.

Jagged had delivered the letter at breakfast. Adrien had greeted the snowy owl affectionately, and ripped open the letter excitedly, expecting a welcome from his dad or maybe Nathalie about his return. What he hadn’t expected was that he would need to stay at school for Christmas and New Year’s, as his dad was abroad for business.

_Dear Adrien… Most sorry to inform you… Hoping you are well… Your priority in your studies… Regards, Nathalie._

Adrien sighed. He sighed and looked up at the sky, a dreary grey, then looked down at the table, his food untouched, and finally looked back at the letter, his heart sinking and sinking. What had he expected, honestly? Why would this year be different? Why on earth would his dad care now, now that he’d finally gotten rid of him at school for the year?

With bitter anger and disappointment, Adrien crumpled up the letter with his fist and stuffed it into his pocket. He didn’t know what to do, but he wanted to talk and relieve all this anger bubbling inside him, and Nino and Alya were both in their Common Rooms getting ready to leave, so he quickly went to find Marinette, who would leave after the Hogwarts Express was long gone. At least she could still be here with him, even just a little while. He knew she would always listen, and always understand as best she could. She was good at that. When she saw him approach the Ravenclaw table hesitantly, looking as though he may cry, she quickly grabbed a croissant — which she knew he loved — and comforted him instantly.

“I don’t know why I hadn’t expected this, honestly,” he admitted later, as they sat on the steps outside the Owlery, where he’d just sent off Jagged with a letter for his father that he’d written with tears in his eyes. He’d calmed down now, with Mari’s help and the sweet gesture of the croissant — they were his favourite, and he couldn’t believe she had remembered — but was still upset. His nose was red and drippy, his eyes shiny, his breath shaky. He wasn’t quite sure how to compose himself. A Christmas and New Year’s all alone — that was no way to spend a holiday!

“How about,” Marinette said hesitantly, a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “I stay with you? It could be fun, being in Hogwarts at Christmas.”

Adrien looked up at her with unbelievable shock, and then with gratitude. He was truly touched. The words himself and what they entailed warmed his heart, and for the briefest moment he felt a million times better. “Mari, that’s…that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he said, a smile breaking out on his face. “We could practice spells and research in the library and I could show you loads of cool magic toys I used to have as a kid — and not to mention our cool traditions for Christmas — and we could explore the castle every day and—” He was getting so excited that he almost lost himself for a moment, before he looked at Mari’s face and remembered she had a family she wanted to be with, too. “No. No, thank you, Mari, but I don’t want to take you away from your family. I appreciate it so much, but you should spend the holidays with them.”

Marinette protested, and finally reluctantly nodded. “Alright. But you’ll write every day, won’t you? I don’t have an owl, so I’ll have to use Jagged, if that’s alright,” she said. “Promise me!” She held out her pinky, and he looked confused before she explained what a pinky promise was. He instantly complied, and joked about this being like an Unbreakable Vow, which Mari didn’t understand but laughed at anyway.

After hours of talking and joking in the freezing cold of the less-than-comfortable Owlery stairs, Adrien, Feeling considerably better than before, stood up to leave. Marinette followed, dusting snow off her cloak. It was late afternoon — the Hogwarts Express had left by now — but Marinette still had an hour before she needed to go by Floo. They carefully stepped down the slippery stairs of the Owlery and walked up to the Ravenclaw tower, where Adrien waited in front of the door with the curious eagle-shaped knocker as Marinette gathered her things. She finally emerged with her trunk, and wearing a curious purple pointed hat with stars on it. She admitted she’d designed it herself, and Adrien looked impressed, making a mental note to tell his father about her skills when he could. The thought of his father, however, reminded him of the lonely month that was to come.

In fact, despite how much Mari had cheered him up, Adrien couldn’t help but feel alone when she joined the mass of students that Professor Tikki was ushering through the fireplace in her office. Marinette glanced back at her friend through the crowd of students, and hesitated with her trunk, before jumping out and running to give him a hug. Adrien was surprised, still not used to the casual physical affection his friends had introduced him too, but quickly hugged her back and enjoyed the warmth as long as he could. Marinette smiled when they pulled apart and swiftly gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was even more surprised and his eyes widened — she’d never done that before, not to Nino or Nathaniel or anyone. In fact, nobody had done it to him either, save for Chloé, but that was different: Chloé’s hugs and kisses were forced and lasted too long, but Mari’s were welcomed and heart-warming. He smiled.

“Well, uh,” she said after a moment, her voice suddenly uncharacteristically squeaky. “I, uh, I’ll write you!”

“Marinette, your face is really red!” he exclaimed, and without bothering to stop and think, he brushed away her bangs and felt her forehead to check her temperature. When the girl’s eyes widened and she stood still as a statue, unable to move, he realised how rude he was being and retracted his hand like her face was on fire. _Which it is, in a way,_ he thought to himself with worry.

“Sorry!” he said sincerely. “I wasn’t thinking! But you’re burning up, Marinette. Do you need to go to the infirmary before you leave?”

The girl hastily shook her head, reddening even further. “N-no! I mean, no, it’s — it’s alright. I’m just, err, a little up-shaken. I mean! Shaken up!” She huffed at the end, clearly struggling. “I’ll write you! I have to go! Bye, Adrien!” she squeaked, and found her place back in the line while Professor Tikki hid a laugh at their exchange.

As Mari entered the fireplace, her trunk at her feet, and waved one last time to Adrien and the professor before green smoke enveloped her, and she was gone.

*

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_Dear Alya,_

_Merry Christmas! I hope you’re having a good time with your family. Thanks again for the treats you sent us, my parents really loved them! Your mum’s baking is really amazing, no wonder she’s a famous chef. Papa insists she gives us the recipes. Let us know if she makes a cookbook!_

_I have to tell you something, but it’s a secret so it has to be in private, don’t write about it for_ The Owl Post! _It’s about Adrien. The last day at Hogwarts I hugged him and kissed his cheek and something happened Alya, I can’t explain it, I don’t understand! I was stuttering like crazy and blushing like mad, it was ridiculous, I know I stutter sometimes but I messed up my words and everything! Then he thought I was ill and I had to run away and went home straight after._

_I’m trying to write him a letter right now but I have no idea what to say. I’ve crossed out half my words! Help me Alya, pleaseee! I don’t know what to do and I’ve never been this lost before._

_My parents have been keeping me super busy with the bakery, so I’ve been helping out a lot and haven’t had a lot of time to think about all this. What do you think of all this? I need help!_

_Love,_

_Marinette (currently desperate and confused)_

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_Mari,_

_Girl, you better tell me everything. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you look at Adrien! And your whole stunt with the werewolf, too. You have to give me DETAILS!!! And come on, I think you and I both know why you’re stuttering so much, girl. Don’t play dumb, Miss Ravenclaw!_

_Merry Christmas by the way! Hope you like your present, let me know what you think of the charms on the bracelet! My mum and I saw the colours and I KNEW it was PERFECT for you. I picked out all the charms myself._

_Thanks so much for all the patisserie from your parents, my mum loves them! She’s super impressed. And thank you for the new journal! It’s perfect for my drafts for_ The Owl Post _. It’s so professional!_

_Oh, and if Nino’s mum sent you a jumper, wash it with some fabric softener before you wear it, just a tip._

_Alya_

_PS Details, details, details!_

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_Dear Nino,_

_Thanks so much for the gift! I love the Quidditch book, how’d you know he was my favourite player? I haven’t stopped reading since you sent it. Don’t have much else to do here, there’s no one to play Quidditch with or talk to._

_Thank your mum for the jumper, I really love it! I wear it every day now, even Headmaster Fu asked where I got it._

_Hope you like the collection of Jagged Stone albums. They’re all my favourites, and I know you prefer Muggle music, but you have to give it all a try, it’s life-changing, trust me._

_Have a great rest of your holiday, can’t wait until you’re back here so we can play Quidditch for real again._

_Adrien Agreste_

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_Dear Nathaniel,_

_Merry Christmas to you and your family! Thank you so much for the beautiful painting, I really love it! I hung it up in my room, and my parents were really impressed. They thought I’d bought it from a professional gallery. You’re really amazing at art!_

_I hope you’re having a great holiday. Let me know how your family trip to Berlin goes! It sounds really exciting. I hope you have a great time!_

_My parents hope you enjoy the patisserie! And I hope you like the paint set I got you. I can’t wait to see what amazing things you’ll make with it._

_Love,_

_Marinette_

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_Nino,_

_Merry Christmas, and thanks to your mum again for the mince pies. Mum and Dad loved them. Although your owl scared us when it rammed into the window three times. Hope he’s okay, I gave him some food and water but he still flew into the window a few times before he left._

_How are you and your family? Tell them merry Christmas for me! I hope you like your present, and if you don’t I’ll gladly take it back because I’ve come to like headphones and the ones I gave you suit me quite well._

_By the way, have you written to Adrien? I don’t know if he told you, but Mari told me he has to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, so he’s really disappointed. Write to him and try to cheer him up, it must be boring at school all alone._

_Alya_

_PS I’m STILL waiting for my Christmas present Nino!!! Better give it to me soon!_

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_M,_

_Merry Christmus, sorry Mum sent you a scratchy jumper she made, at least she knitted an ‘M’ on it — she first knitted an ‘N’ before I told her your name was MARINETTE, not NARINETTE. That was pretty funny tho. Hope you like the gift anyways!_

_N_

_PS Mum says to enjoy mince pies. Thanx for the patisserie. Our owl ate most of them tho — oops._

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_Dear Adrien,_

_Merry Christmas! How are you? How’s Hogwarts? I hope it’s all going alright._

~~_I thought of_ ~~

~~_My_ ~~

~~_Your_ ~~

~~_So how was_ ~~

_Well I hope you’re doing okay! And I hope you like your present!_

_Oh, and enjoy the croissants, Papa baked them especially for you! I hope they weren’t too heavy for Jagged. Let me know whenever you want more!_

_Love,_

_Marinette_

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*

Adrien smiled and folded the letter he received from Marinette at breakfast, and placed it in a pile of other letters he’d received from his friends over the break. He needed to write back, but he hadn’t a clue what to write. Nothing much had happened since Christmas break had started: nobody he knew had stayed at Hogwarts, so there was nothing to do and nobody to do it with. He’d mostly read the Quidditch book Nino had given him as a Christmas present, played Quidditch (when a member of staff begrudgingly agreed to supervise him) and avoided Plagg like the plague, but was pleased to find that the suspicious potions professor was nowhere to be found during the holiday season. All the better.

But Marinette’s last letter unnerved him. In fact, all her letters did. They were awkward, with many bits crossed out, and uncharacteristically short for the talkative Ravenclaw. She’d acted a little strange since she left, so he hoped her fever hadn’t gotten any worse — being sick on Christmas was even worse than being alone. When he asked about her health, though, all he got was another vague reply. He did like her Christmas present, though: a Muggle book for learning Mandarin, which her own mother had recommended. He’d told her that his father had put him into language lessons over the summer — he could already speak French, English, and a bit of Spanish — and Mandarin was the one he struggled with most. He thought that was sweet of her, to think of him. It was thoughtful.

In fact, all his presents had been thoughtful and sweet: Nino’s Quidditch book and the green woollen jumper with an ‘A’ on it, Marinette’s handy Mandarin guide, and not to mention all the food: Alya’s assortment of treats from her mum, Marinette’s croissants, and Nino’s mince pies. He was being spoiled, and there wasn’t a moment he wasn’t grateful to his friends. He really loved them. He’d never gotten or given so many gifts, and he really loved it. The festivity and giving nature of the season made him feel warm whenever he got lonely in his time at Hogwarts. Nathalie had sent him a formal apology from his father, but that didn’t make him feel much better.

However, all this time alone let him explore the castle a lot more, and with all this free time, he didn’t have to worry about being late for class or for lunch or dinner.

One day, as he was exploring the castle, Adrien stumbled upon several hallways of empty classrooms. He opened and closed all the doors, counting the number of windows or the number of desks, everything or anything that would help him pass the time. However, as he opened the last classroom in the corridor — using Alohomora to do so, as it was curiously locked — and found not windows or chairs or desks, but a single rectangular frame covered in a white sheet.

Adrien slowly approached the object, and hesitated. He probably shouldn’t be here. But he wasn’t on the third floor, and he wasn’t doing anything wrong… So he lifted the sheet and pulled it off to reveal a mirror, old and dusty. It stood like a centrepiece in the peculiar room, and it was ornate, but obviously very ancient. Its presence was almost intimidating. He looked at the top, on the frame, and squinted against the dim light to read what it said.

“The Mirror of Erised,” he read off the ornate plaque on the tarnished frame, and stepped back to look at it again. “Strange…” he muttered, and gave the surface a rub with his cloak to get rid of the dust, and looked into the mirror by habit, only for his heart to stop.

Beside him, standing right next to him, smiling brightly and as clear as day, was his Emilie Agreste. His mother.

Adrien’s breath caught in his throat, and his felt as though he lost control of his body, as though he floated slightly above the floor, transfixed by the apparition in the glass. Emilie Agreste, his mother, the mother he’d never truly known. Or, well, he did know her from the many portraits and pictures that hung all over Agreste Manor. They were the portraits and pictures he’d introduced himself to as their son, and spent hours and hours talking to, as a toddler trying to grab the painted fingers on the canvas and as a child crying in front of her picture while she comforted him. He knew her voice, how she loved her time at Beauxbatons, and how she loved his father. The only thing she didn’t quite love, though, was Adrien, and that was something he could never change. They didn’t have any paintings of her after her son had been born, so to the painted memory of the beautiful Auror Emilie Agreste, Adrien was only the boy who said he was her son, and the paintings acted accordingly. None of that, however, could ever mirror motherly love. It wasn’t quite the same.

But here she was, not in a painting, but in the mirror standing beside him, like the family portrait he had always wanted. She was smiling at him, and it wasn’t a fabricated smile with cracks in the paint, but real, so very real. She put her hand on his shoulder—

Adrien quickly reached up to his shoulder, only for his greedy hand to catch nothing but air. He looked beside him and saw nothing.

 _I knew that,_ he thought to himself, scoldingly, though his heart still sank. _I know she isn’t real. She isn’t here. But she’s…_

He looked back in the mirror, and there she was smiling again. His heart felt full.

“Mama,” he said. “I… I want you here. I miss you. I know I never knew you, but…”

She didn’t speak, but only smiled again, gentle and reassuring, as if to say, _I know, sweetheart, and I love you so much._ Adrien wanted to cry and laugh and hug her tight.

He spent the next few hours staring at her face, trying to memorise it in something other than a painting, unable to speak a word. He sat on the cold tiles of the classroom floor, looking up at her, trying to think of anything he could say, but he couldn’t. When it got late, he soundlessly went back to the Slytherin Common Room, and cried for a little while. It was too much, to see her, and then to be alone in the cold Common Room with no one to talk to. He then sniffed, rubbed his eyes, and forced a smile. He’d go back as soon as he could tomorrow morning. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again.

*

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and what did you think of the change of narrative with the letters?
> 
> Also, one thing has been bugging me: when Marinette and Adrien become Ladybug and Chat Noir, would you rather their identities stay a mystery to each other, or for them to find out and know immediately? Let me know in the comments! I'd love to have your suggestions.
> 
> Thanks again and have a wonderful day :)


	7. A Mirror Named Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha so it seems I have completely forgotten to add anything for months. Oops. Disregarding that, here's a new chapter!

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**Chapter Seven: A Mirror Named Desire**

Marinette breathed in the clean, crisp December air as she leaned over the window railing, standing on her tip-toes all alone in the Ravenclaw First-Year girls’ dormitory. It was strangely serene, and a stark contrast to her home in Paris: instead of grey, watery slush on the sidewalks, the sounds cars going to and fro all night and the bustle of the city all around the Dupain-Cheng bakery, the Hogwarts grounds were quiet and serene. It felt strange to be back, in tune with the simplistic beauty of nature, and she was greatly appreciative of it all: there was pure white snow all over the grounds, untouched by cars or footprints, except for the trail of twigs and giant footprints that the groundskeeper had left behind him as he dragged Christmas trees to and from the castle to decorate the courtyard and Great Hall.

Marinette had a smile on her face and a light feeling in her heart. It was good to be back. As much as she missed her parents, they had stayed in touch all through the first term, and while she was at home she didn’t do much except wait until she could go back to school. She had missed the magic, her friends, the winding stairways and the acres of beautiful forest. Her parents had reluctantly agreed to let her go back to school after Christmas, right before New Year’s; they needed the free time, anyway, what with the hundreds of orders they had gotten for New Year’s parties and events. Sabine thought their oven would explode from all the cupcakes they had been ordered to bake for the mayor’s annual New Year’s Eve party alone. This year in particular they had even more work on their plate: they were catering a huge televised event in Paris, and they didn’t want Marinette to feel left out as they spent all day working.

So, to save their daughter from anymore time away from her friends, they had simply sent Professor Tikki a letter, and the next day she was there to pick her up via Floo Network. Taking her to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters would simply take too much time, and they hadn’t installed their fireplace for nothing. She’d now been back at school for a few hours, which was enough time to unpack her bag and change into some warmer clothes. As beautiful as they were, the Hogwarts grounds were far, far colder than her cozy bakery home in Paris.

As a chill passed through the cold stone room, she quickly closed her window and pulled her wooly socks up — she’d made them over Christmas, and they were bright red with black spots. She was quite proud of them. Unfortunately she had helped her parents out so much in the bakery over the holiday that she hadn’t had much time for designing — except for an idea she’d had about wand-warmers, which were like leg-warmers for your wand to keep your hands warm in the winter! — and it felt nice to get back into the swing of things. She had more than enough time to do anything she pleased now: her homework was finished within the first week of Christmas break, and she had read ahead in all her subjects, so there wasn’t much else she could do except prepare for Potions and hope for the best. Then again, she could see Adrien soon, and he could definitely help with—

She suddenly stopped and let out a gasp. Adrien was still at school, that’s right! She hadn’t stopped thinking about him all winter break; how could she have forgotten? Her letters had been so awkward over the break. Had he noticed, she wondered? She hoped he wouldn’t act any different to how they had before, despite the hug and the kiss. She’d kissed Nino and Nathaniel on the cheek right before they left, and that hadn’t meant anything — then again, she hadn’t felt the same way as with Adrien, for whatever reason that could be. Her hands clammy, her stomach lurching in an intriguing way, her breath catching in her throat, her pulse quickening and her first instinct being to run away… It wasn’t like her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it, but she didn’t want it to stop, either. Marinette was intelligent enough to understand the implications of the phrase “butterflies in your stomach,” but she knew she didn’t like Adrien in the way, she just knew it. They were friends, and nothing more.

Anxiously Marinette slapped her cheeks, bringing some warmth into them, and wrapped her jumper around herself. She’d ignore those thoughts. She was going to act normally, because that was what she needed to do: ignore it, and in time it would go away. _Ignore it,_ she kept repeating to herself as she stumbled down the staircases and fumbled with the doors of the Great Hall. _Ignore it,_ she told herself as she caught sight of his brilliant gold head of hair and almost stopped dead in her tracks.

That’s when she knew her brilliant tactic would instantly fail.

 _No! Ignore it, Marinette!_ she internally screamed at herself, and inched closer towards the Slytherin table.

Before she could say something, he stood up to leave and turned towards her once she’d gotten within a few feet of him, having finished his breakfast, and immediately broke into a bright smile. Instantly, that peculiar thrill and rush of excitement was back, and she tried to suppress the drumming of her heart against her ribcage as she squeaked, “Morning!”

“Mari!” he called, despite her being a few feet away, and sprang to his feet to envelop her in a crushing hug. She smiled — he never used to initiate hugs before — and hugged him back just as tightly. She’d missed this. “I was just reading your last letter. You didn’t let me know you’d be coming back so soon!”

Marinette smiled and scratched the back of her neck, a habit she’d apparently picked up from Adrien. “Well, I wanted to surprise you!” she said. A half-truth. Honestly, she had difficulty picking up a pen and figuring out what to write half the time, and she wasn’t even quite sure if she would have been able to come to school so there was no point in getting Adrien’s hopes up and then disappointing him. _Goodness knows he’s had enough disappointment this holiday,_ she thought sympathetically. “I just got here this morning. What, err — what have you been up to?”

“Well, actually…”

The two friends ventured out of the Great Hall and along the winding corridors as Adrien told her all about how he’d been hanging around the castle, walking endlessly and discovering new passageways and rooms he’d never seen before. Just as they neared one particular classroom, he quietly admitted to finding some kind of magical mirror in an abandoned classroom.

“You found a what?” Marinette exclaimed, immediately excited. Her awkwardness seemed to fade in light of the new discovery. Adrien opened the door of said classroom, and together they hurriedly entered the abandoned room, shutting the door behind them. Marinette found that it had no windows or any furniture, save for a large, rectangular object at the end of the room. The mirror, she assumed.

Adrien took her hand and hurried her towards it, telling her to look. She took a split-second to catch her breath at the sight of his hand in hers, and then looked into the mirror.

“Well? Do you see her?” Adrien asked excitedly, gesturing at the mirror. Marinette stared at the reflection in the enchanted glass.

“What?” Marinette asked after a second’s delay. She was still staring, not even giving a glance to the boy beside her. “See — see who? I don’t see anyone except…” She trailed off, not finishing the thought, and gestured wordlessly at the reflection.

Adrien frowned. “My mother,” he clarified. “Look, she’s right there! That’s my mum. What do you think? Do you think I look like her?” Adrien knew it was a bit of a strange question, but this was the first time he had ever shared anything about his mother with anyone else, and he trusted Marinette’s opinion and judgement. She knew how sensitive he was about the subject, and that he preferred not to talk about his family life to anyone. Still, she knew enough to know how fond he was of the late Emilie Agreste. Surely she must know how much this meant to him.

“I don’t see your mother, Adrien,” she mumbled, and his heart deflated a little. He looked at the mirror for reassurance, and found his mother looking back. How could Marinette not see her? She was right there, in front of him, he could almost reach out and touch her.

“What? Then what do you see?” he asked.

But Marinette was barely paying attention, which hurt him somehow. She had dropped Adrien’s hand and was still staring straight at the mirror, and slowly tore her gaze to the ornate golden frame. Her eyes darted around for a moment before she squinted as she tried to read what was engraved on the top, trying to figure it out.

“The Mirror of Erised,” she mumbled, reading off the tarnished plaque, and quickly took a step back to look at the whole mirror. Her troubled expression immediately changed to one of understanding, and she mouthed something Adrien didn’t catch under her breath. She took another moment to gaze at her image as the mirror presented it to her, and then turned to the Slytherin beside her with a worried look. “Adrien, the mirror isn’t — I’m sorry, but it’s not—”

“It’s not — real?” Adrien finished for her. “Well, I _know_ that,” he said, trying and failing to hide the disappointment in his tone. Of course he understood that it was enchanted somehow, but that didn’t mean the mirror was flat-out lying to him. The image could be real, somehow, maybe of another reality, or perhaps a trick of the light, or, or…

Before he could finish the thought, another voice spoke behind them, elderly and soft. “Miss Dupain-Cheng is correct, Mr Agreste.” The two children jumped up and frantically scrambled to look behind them, finding the old headmaster in his flamboyant, flower-patterned robes. The first thought that crossed Marinette’s mind was that he was a strange one, the head of Hogwarts, and then remembered that they were obviously somewhere out-of-bounds.

“Err, Headmaster — we, uh — we didn’t mean to…” She looked at Adrien for help.

“I only wanted to show her something, sir,” Adrien quickly clarified. “We’ll — we’ll leave right away,” he said, though his tone betrayed his unwillingness to do so as he gave another longing glance at his mother in the mirror.

The headmaster shook his head as he walked towards them. Marinette wondered how on earth they hadn’t heard him enter.

“Curious thing, isn’t it? The Mirror of Erised,” the headmaster said as he approached the ancient frame. “It has seen everything. Everything that man will try to hide, or deny, or even worship. It always reveals exactly what is in your heart, even if you yourself are not aware of it. Curious, indeed.”

“Sir, the name…” Marinette started, and Headmaster Fu nodded.

“You’re very bright for seeing that so quickly, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he noted, and for a moment she felt pleased at the praise. “Yes, the mirror shows you your heart’s deepest desire. My boy, for you, I can only assume what it must be, and why you brought your friend here.”

Adrien nodded, and looked back at the mirror again. “I see my mother, sir,” he said quietly, not tearing his gaze away from her beautiful face, looking back at him with the love and warmth he so longed for, craved, needed, _desired._ A look of understanding passed over his features, and he looked down, admitting to himself that it was too good to be true. The headmaster laid a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder with a thoughtful expression.

“I’m very sorry, Adrien,” he told the boy. “Sometimes the truth is so difficult to face that we cannot bring ourselves to. That is a quality that is natural in all humans, whether you consider it a flaw or not. When I first encountered the mirror, I had my fair share of denial and regret,” the headmaster said, letting his gaze trail to the mirror for a brief moment. He looked away with difficulty. “Unfortunately,” he told the two, “you mustn’t discuss this with any of your peers. Many have tried to seek out the mirror to fulfil their desires, wasting away in front of its reflection for hours or even days at a time. I have known many men who were wild with their ideas of greatness and oftentimes greed, and drove themselves mad chasing their desires. It is a bitter duel, one between the head and the heart, and a difficult one at that.” The old headmaster looked at the mirror again, seemingly lost in thought.

“What do you see in the mirror, sir?” Adrien asked hesitantly.

The headmaster smiled. “I see myself with a new pair of wooly socks,” he answered with a humour that lightened the mood of the room. Adrien gave another lasting glance at his mother and turned away, and Marinette did the same. The headmaster looked at the two. “I know you two are wise enough to listen to your heads when you must. I see a greatness in you two. Now, I must ask you to never seek out this mirror again. Dangerous fates await men who chase their desires, and it is a game you must never play. Now run along, enjoy your holiday. I expect to see you both at dinner, 6 o’clock sharp,” he called after them, and the two hurriedly walked out of the room.

Once they had reached the door, Adrien turned to close it reluctantly, and stopped as Headmaster Fu’s voice once more.

“Once those two discover their Miraculous… I don’t know what will happen. Indeed, this is a danger we must fix at once. Tikki, make sure we have moved the mirror by tomorrow morning.”

Quickly, the two shut the door and bolted to the end of the hall, stopping only once they reached a winding staircase that lead to the library. They leaned against the small, narrow window and caught their breath, looking at one another with equal confusion.

“Did you see Professor Tikki in there?” Adrien asked, and Marinette shook her head. She still seemed distracted from the mirror, and the mere thought of it made Adrien’s heart ache to see his mother again. The two sat down on the steps as the sun came out behind the clouds outside, lighting the staircase in a milky white glow.

“How did you figure it out?” he said finally, and the girl looked up at him in confusion. “About the mirror, I mean. What did you see in it?”

Marinette looked down again. “Oh, well, I uh… I looked at the name,” she clarified. “Erised is just ‘desire’ reflected… Or well, backwards. So I assumed…” She trailed off, still looking down. Adrien couldn’t pinpoint why she was avoiding his gaze. But Marinette didn’t want to tell him what she’d seen, and still couldn’t quite accept it herself. “Anyway!” she said suddenly. “What was that Headmaster Fu said when we left? About — Miraculous? What do you think he meant?”

Adrien looked thoughtful then, as if he’d forgotten all about the mirror. “I don’t know! I was trying to figure that out, too. What’s a Miraculous? What did he mean that we would discover them?”

Marinette furrowed her brow, looking deep in thought. “I have no idea,” she said finally. “I somehow doubt he’ll answer us if we ask him. We’ll have to visit the library first and research anything to do with the mirror — maybe there’s some kind of connection between them. And then…” She looked up at Adrien and felt flustered again, losing her grip on her words and trailing off. His eyes looked incredibly green in the light of the sun on the cozy staircase. She cleared her throat and tried her best not to blush, but in vain. “Err, and then we’ll just have to research them. Uh, we could start right now?” she suggested, and made to stand up.

Adrien nodded in agreement, and together the two made their way up the winding steps to the library, where the huge oak doors and rows and rows of ancient books awaited them. It was eerily quiet, which Marinette liked, as it was usually so crowded in here. Adrien didn’t like it as much. He knew the silence of isolation only too well.

“Well, let’s get started…” Marinette suggested, starting off at the section of famous enchanted objects. She started picking a stack of books and brought them over to the cozy armchairs near the fireplace, where they could read in peace. Adrien walked through the endless rows of shelves, trying to wrack his brain for anything useful that might help the search. By the time the pair had skimmed three large volumes of magical objects, a book on cursed items, an index on how to lift enchantments on furniture and even a whole book on enchanted mirrors and glasswork, they had found nothing, and the sun was already beginning to set. Marinette was determined to search on, but Adrien couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“This is hopeless,” he said after the sun had set and the library was only lit by the enchanted glow of the fireplace and chandeliers. He discarded another book onto their growing pile and sighed, taking a moment to stretch. “Why is it so difficult to research in here? First we find nothing on that three-headed dog, and now nothing about magical mirrors… You’d think it would be easier.”

“You’d think,” Marinette agreed, and let out a sigh as well as she bookmarked the page she was on, setting the book down. “I don’t understand. We’ve looked at everything, and there’s no mention of the Mirror of Erised, the Miraculous, the three-headed dog… Nothing!”

“What should we do?” Adrien asked after a moment. Marinette sighed and leaned into the plush armchair, thinking. She was torn. She still hadn’t told Adrien about her ability to purify Akumas, and she was still bothered by the incident with Plagg during the Quidditch match. Nothing seemed to add up, and it was beginning to bother her. Usually, when she had a problem, if she was creative or resilient enough, she could solve it. Now, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Well,” she said after a long moment, “for now, let’s go get some dinner. And tomorrow, we’ll search some more. If there’s the two of us, it’ll go twice as fast,” she said with a smile, and Adrien truly appreciated her attempt to cheer him up. The situation still seemed quite hopeless, but nonetheless, he knew it was a million times better with his friends there. If he’d had to deal with all of this alone, he was quite sure he’d burn out immediately. At least with Marinette here, it was fun, and he didn’t have to constantly worry about being alone — even though she had started to act a bit strangely, but he could dismiss that. Everyone had their off days.

And so, leaving their questions and frustration in the library, the two First Years went down to the Great Hall. After dinner and a good night’s sleep, perhaps everything would be easier in the morning.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! As for the rest of the fic, I've planned it all out - writing it just seems to take up so much energy and time, and school has taken up a lot of that. I'll do my best to get everything else out soon! Thanks for sticking with me!


	8. Shortcuts to Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This chapter was super fun to write - I wrote and re-wrote it several times because I just couldn't seem to be making decisions, but I'm satisfied with it. I've taken a lot more artistic freedom here and the plot is a lot different from the original, but I really enjoyed writing about the Hogwarts in my mind and imagining new scenarios! Hope you enjoy!

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**Chapter Eight: Shortcuts to Disaster**

Professor D’Argencourt sat in his office above the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, stroking his moustache in deep thought. The room was small, and dimly lit with only a few candles, but the professor hadn’t expected anything extravagant when he’d arrived at Hogwarts. He still hadn’t come to terms with returning to this damned place to teach, but there was little he could do about it. Remembering his student days here at Hogwarts only succeeded in lurching himself further into his deep-running hatred of the place. It was sheer luck that he’d found an opening as a teacher’s position; some way to get some kind of opportunity to avenge all the wasted years of neglect and stress within the castle walls. This damned establishment that had disrespected everything he stood for, and not to mention had left him completely unqualified to pursue only dream: to be the best Auror the wizarding world had every seen. He remembered the day he’d gotten the rejection letter from the ministry and ripped his NEWT results into pieces. For a moment, pure rage surged through him, and the telltale mark of the purple butterfly glowed before his eyes, turning his vision blank with hatred.

He closed his eyes and held his pounding head until the hatred went away, trying to keep his composure. He could not become a mindless puppet to the Dark Lord once again, not after he’d worked so hard to earn Hawkmoth’s trust and keep some sort of autonomy while he completed the mission to retrieve the Miraculous from Headmaster Fu. If he’d known the price he would pay for becoming Akumatized…well, he wasn’t quite sure he would be quite as keen as he had been before.

This situation was stressful, and being near all his old teachers, those who had mocked his passion for fencing and duelling and failed him in his quest to become an Auror…that only added to his daily frustrations. It didn’t help that his plan wasn’t quite coming together as he’d hoped. First, he’d almost gotten himself killed by following Fu to the third floor, finding a room with a curious trapdoor and a three-headed dog that had almost bitten his head clean off. His next attempt of Akumatizing Mylène had, no doubt, also been a useless effort. Not only did the mindless werewolf Akuma not know where the Miraculous were and go on a destructive rampage, but it had also alerted Fu to potential danger, and the security in the school immediately changed. Getting into Fu’s office would be impossible now, with it being guarded heavily night and day, and reaching the room with that three-headed beast would be counterproductive unless he had a plan. Professors and portraits alike were now constantly on the lookout for Akumas, ready to report anything suspicious to the old headmaster.

He cursed to himself. It was getting damn near impossible to formulate a new plan.

D’Argencourt glanced down at the trunk under his desk and sighed, hearing the fluttering of Akumas within, clunking against the lid as a fruitless attempt to escape. No, Akumatizing helpless students wasn’t the right course of action; his mistake had taught him that much. He’d failed his master enough as it was. He needed a new plan, but he couldn’t make one without some kind of clue that could get him closer to the Miraculous. But what? And how?

The professor sighed. Working for the Dark Lord sure did have its setbacks, and this job was straining his patience and time far more than it was worth. If he couldn’t procure the Miraculous his master so craved within the next few months, his neck would be on the line. Or worse, he could be exposed as a conspirator with the Dark Lord. It was almost ludicrous how far he had strayed from his dream of becoming an Auror: not only was he now helping the Darkest wizard of all time, he was doing it in secret when all the world thought Hawkmoth was dead. Only D’Argencourt knew the secret, and he couldn’t do anything to get out of this situation; not with the Akuma inside his wand tying him to the Dark Lord, and certainly not with the threat of revealing that Hawkmoth was still alive and consequently be sentenced to rot in Azkaban forever. The thought made his blood run cold, and his head started pounding again. The purple butterfly mocked him, swarming his vision with pure fear and rage. In the brief heated moment his master’s Dark energy surged through him, he grabbed at his head and shook wildly, knocking a stack of books and papers off the desk.

When the pain subsided, the DADA professor looked down at the mess, and blindly started picking up the papers and books. As he was about to close a volume on Dark creatures — necessary for a lesson plan for his Seventh Year NEWT students — he glanced at the inside cover and found, neatly at the bottom, in red ink: _Property of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Library, Restricted Section._

D’Argencourt snapped the book shut and sat back in his chair, once again deep in thought, and allowed himself a smirk. The Restricted Section of the library would most definitely be of use to him; it was the perfect shortcut to finding the perfect disaster that would bring Fu to his knees. Yes, this was a promising plan; for if the Dark secrets in the forbidden school library couldn’t help him figure something out, then nothing could.

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A few days after Adrien had showed Marinette the Mirror of Erised and Headmaster Fu had planted the word “Miraculous” into the two First Years’ heads, their search to figure out anything useful was still ongoing. It was almost New Year’s and the pressure to find something useful before the holiday ended was rising. Not to mention, the mirror was indeed gone the next time Adrien checked, despite Marinette warning him not to try and seek it out anymore. He knew it had been wrong, and he knew the dangers Fu had warned them of, but they didn’t completely understand how he felt. The desire to see his mother standing next to him, smiling at him, putting her hand reassuringly on his shoulder…it was overpowering.

Deep down, he knew he should focus his efforts on helping Mari research information, but it was getting frustrating to just sit in the library day in, day out, and finding absolutely nothing in return for all the hours he’d lost. It was fun to hang out with Marinette and it gave him some time to tutor her in Potions, and they’d had their fair share of laughs, but he longed to just kick back and go outside or play some Quidditch. He’d yet to voice this to Marinette for fear of offending her dedication, which he certainly didn’t want to do. He admired her work ethic, especially considering the topics they were researching seemed so serious, but they were also very morbid. It wasn’t exactly fun, and this was a holiday, which was the prime time for them to be enjoying themselves.

It was the day of New Year’s Eve and Adrien was determined to force Mari to get out of the library and get her head out of the books for a while, if only just for the day. He pulled on his warm jumper he’d gotten from Nino’s mum and his extra-warm socks, and marched into the Great Hall with one of the many magical toys he had promised to show her. Though Marinette was Muggle-born, she was admittedly far more knowledgeable and well-read on magic than he was, but she didn’t know about simple wizarding traditions like Exploding Snap or Wizard’s chess, and so, he had decided to help her out.

As he immediately spotted her signature pigtails at the Ravenclaw table, her bowl of porridge forgotten and her nose once again buried in a book that might help them learn about the Miraculous, he raced over to her, his chess set in hand. Marinette’s head didn’t raise to meet him as he stood in front of her, and for a moment he wasn’t even sure she’d heard him approach, so he snapped her book shut. At her surprised gasp and wide-eyed look of shock, he gave a cheeky grin.

“You look like the Cheshire cat,” she murmured, yawning. He noticed with a tinge of sympathy that her eyes had those dark bags under them, probably from all the late-night reading she’d been doing. He really did admire all her hard work. “What’s that for?” she asked, pointing at the heavy marble chess set. Adrien grinned and took out the pieces, which floated to the right starting positions.

“Wizard’s chess,” he answered simply, gesturing at the board. “It’s almost New Year’s Eve, Mari! We’re going to have fun today. No arguments. Here, you’ll be white, you can start,” he said decisively when she tried to protest. She hesitated at first, but at the sight of his grin, her heart beat raced against itself and she quickly put her book aside, blushing wildly. Adrien didn’t notice and instead began raving about how cool Wizard’s chess was, and how he’d managed to beat Nino once, to Marinette’s surprise.

“Nino?” she exclaimed incredulously. “ _Our_ Nino beat you at a mind game? No.” She attempted to move a pawn forward two spaces, only for it to bat her hand away sharply and give her a pointed look. She held her finger, which now had a tiny sting, like a paper cut, and was speechless for a moment. Adrien reminded her to use verbal commands rather than actually touch the pieces; they were magic for a reason, after all.

“…yeah, like that. That’s it,” he encouraged. “And don’t underestimate Lahiffe, he’s insanely good at chess. It shocked me at first, too. Oh, pawn to F5,” he commanded, and the black pawn marched slowly towards its position as directed. Marinette marvelled at it for a moment, commenting how cute the little pawn was, which earned her a haughty glare from the piece. She refrained from the degrading compliments for the rest of the game, especially when she gave a yelp of surprise when Adrien’s knight demolished her rook. When Adrien assured her it was only a part of the game, she was sceptical at first, but quickly got into it once she’d gotten used to the unusual violence.

Adrien was enjoying this more than he was letting on, and maybe only to avoid getting labeled as a chess nerd, which he was sure Marinette and Alya would love to use as ammunition. Chess was one of his fondest memories from his childhood, of which there were admittedly few. Since his only companions growing up were limited to a handful of pure-blood children, like Lila and Chloé, who never ever wanted to even come near a chess set, he didn’t have much choice but to play solo. He played with the portraits of his mother around the Agreste Manor whenever he could, but he knew his father would be severely angry with him if he was caught, so he only risked that a handful of times. Still, chess was a refuge, despite the risks. It was a safe little world where he could be in control of his own decisions and choices, if only just for fifteen minutes. He was glad Marinette seemed to be enjoying it well enough, despite being — well — catastrophically terrible.

“I’ll beat you this time,” she said with determination, smoothing her pigtails and setting the pieces back to default. He could tell she was probably already plotting to read some manuals on chess strategies to beat him at a game next time and smiled fondly.

After Adrien had beat her once again and then twice more, and then Marinette had gotten him into a surprise checkmate after only a handful of moves, they decided to stretch their legs and go for a walk around the corridors, which quickly turned into exploring the castle. Since they had arrived at Hogwarts, it had been Alya’s mission to find as many hidden rooms and mysteries as she could, and she reported all of them on _The Owl Post_. Marinette herself had found a few shortcuts and hidden pathways she used regularly: there was the one on the first floor behind the tapestry of two nymphs that lead to the gardens on the opposite side of the castle, which was perfect for getting to Herbology on time; there was the small staircase hidden by a painting of the phases of the moon that lead straight to the Astronomy Tower without the hassle of climbing a million steps; then there was her favourite, which was a small painting of a library in the Ravenclaw girls’ dormitory that lead to a cozy reading nook up in another tower, which was perfect when she wanted an afternoon off to relax.

Although she was proud of these little secrets, she knew she hadn’t even gotten close to discovering all the secret rooms and passageways, and that thought excited her; it was one of her favourite things about Hogwarts. She had even heard a hint from Alya that the Gryffindor Common Room was through a portrait somewhere, though she didn’t know which one, and they told her she would never suspect it; that made her suspicious each time she passed a painting of a delicate-looking lady next to a strong, chivalrous knight. It was common knowledge that the Slytherins were down in the dungeons, but she had no idea how vast the underground floor of Hogwarts was, and didn’t have the nerves to find out. She hadn’t the faintest idea where the Hufflepuffs were, though she suspected it might be somewhere earthy and cozy, if Rose’s gushing rants about the beautiful plants in her dormitory were anything to go by. Nino had mentioned something about the kitchens, too. She knew she would probably never find out where the other Common Rooms were, but nevertheless the mystery and secrecy of all these wonderful, hidden opportunities surrounding the school grounds made everything seem a lot more magical.

After lunch, while the sun was starting to set in the early evening, the two had found themselves down in the dungeons, which made Marinette feel uneasy, but Adrien had grown used to it over the course of the year. He had showed Marinette one of his favourite shortcuts, which was hidden by a portrait of an irritable, elderly wizard holding a blackened cauldron, who scowled down at them when they approached the frame, but who turned into a dashing young man with a charming smile when you uttered the password “good luck” and swung open to a small stairway that lead down to the Potions classrooms. He said it saved him a lot of time getting to and from lessons, or just saved the hassle of getting down into the dungeons.

The whole time, Marinette made a mental note to remember the shortcuts Adrien showed her for when she was running late to morning lessons, which was quite often. Perhaps she’d need to make a list of passwords, but then she’d risk losing it and someone else taking all the credit for her work. She decided to rely on muscle memory and hoped she could guess the passwords correctly until she got used to it. After all, although she may be clumsy and sometimes forgetful, she was adaptable: adjusting to magic hadn’t been that hard, so adjusting to passwords would be far easier.

“Oh, I heard there was a really secret portrait here somewhere…” Adrien mumbled, snapping her out of her thoughts. He was looking around the dark dungeons, searching for a loose brick or an enchanted gargoyle. Marinette glanced around nervously. The damp, dark atmosphere of the dungeons made it rather hard to see, and being near the Potions classroom didn’t do much to calm her nerves.

“It could be this,” he said, pointing at a sconce candelabra mounted high on the brick wall. “I’ve heard of secret rooms that are unlocked by moving a lamp or a door handle. Let’s—” He stopped dead in his tracks, and Marinette looked ahead to see what he was looking at. Her heart jumped in her throat.

There was Professor Plagg, his dark hair and cloak blending him into the darkness. He seemed to be lurking around; his classroom wasn’t far away, but what in Merlin’s name was he doing moping around the dungeons like that?

Adrien whispered “follow me,” and she felt her face heat up when Adrien grabbed her hand and dragged her behind the wall so they could survey him from afar. The professor seemed careful. He hadn’t cast Lumos, so he looked even more suspicious than usual, and the two watched him nervously until he stopped right at the end of the corridor. He then whispered something, and the two heard a short creaking sound, before he disappeared completely.

After a few seconds’ silence, the two deemed it safe to come out of their hiding place and quickly and quietly made their way to the end of the corridor. There were no doors, so he couldn’t have entered one, which would have explained the creak. As Marinette looked around, she felt Adrien tap her shoulder and saw him point to a rather dark, hidden part of the corridor. Behind a dark tapestry, half-hidden by stone pillars, was a large painting depicting who Marinette assumed was Merlin. It completely blended into the surroundings, and Marinette wouldn’t have noticed had Adrien not pointed it out.

“He must’ve gone through there,” Adrien deducted, studying the painting. “But we don’t know the password, or if this painting is even enchanted…” He sighed and touched the painting, looking for a clue of some kind.

“What does it lead to, think you do — err, do you think?” she asked in a small, cautious voice, cursing her stutter.

“Well,” Adrien started when they’d gotten close enough to see the paintings clearly, “I, uh, think it might have been the library? I’m not too sure… I overheard one of the Slytherin Prefects talking about all the passwords he knew, but I forgot most of them, and I didn’t want to ask…” he admitted sheepishly. “But hey, no harm in trying, right?”

At his cheeky, charming smile, Marinette felt her stomach flutter with…well, with butterflies, for lack of better phrase. She had tried her utmost best to act normally around Adrien while she figured out why she was such an awkward, bumbling mess around him all of a sudden, but he certainly wasn’t making things easy for her. No wonder his father made him model for his designs: the boy was far more handsome than anyone Marinette had ever met, even at eleven years old, although she didn’t want to admit that fact to anyone else yet, let alone herself. If Alya knew what she thought…well, Marinette would never hear the end of it, she was sure of that.

She snapped herself out of her trance with the voice of reason within her. “No harm in trying?” she said incredulously. “Did you forget what happened at your first Quidditch match? Following Plagg in a dark hallway might just bring the _most_ harm.”

At this, Adrien got considerably redder. “You’re right…” he said slowly. “But we never figured out why he would do something like that, and with Headmaster Fu so close by. Something doesn’t add up, and I want to find out what it all means. I know you do, too,” he said.

A beat passed, then two. Marinette was visibly torn. “Maybe we’ll finally learn something about the mirror,” she finally reasoned. “Or the three-headed dog on the third floor…”

He nodded, feeling a familiar shiver of fear at the thought of that monster. “Yeah, or about the Miraculous,” Adrien added hopefully, and the painting swung open.

At once, Marinette and Adrien pulled back from the painting, afraid that Plagg had popped up again. When they found an empty opening leading to an empty staircase leading up, she stared at it and then at Adrien, who stared right back. It was the painting of Merlin with the book, but the one of the wand stayed closed. Was that the password? “Miraculous”? That was what they’d overheard Fu talking about, so why on earth was it a password…? How could Plagg know about it?

“Uh,” Adrien said. He didn’t know what else to say, and Marinette was equally silent. “Well, that was quite the _miracle,_ wasn’t it?” he said finally, flashing her a cattish grin.

“Oh, stop it,” she groaned, swallowing her worry and climbing into the frame. Adrien was right: she wanted answers and as long as they were careful, nothing could happen. “Let’s see where it goes. We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back now.” She pulled her Ravenclaw cloak around her and slowly, carefully, the two stepped inside and walked down the narrow stairs. They barely noticed the darkness until the painting swung shut behind them, and Marinette quickly cast Lumos, keeping it as dim as she could control.

The two quickly reached the end of the staircase and exchanged a look and a nod as they carefully opened the portrait and stepped out. Marinette kept her wand ready as the two closed the portrait — which was an exact replica of the one at the other end, she noticed — and entered the room. It was dark and unfamiliar, and they found that it was completely unlit, with no fireplaces or floating candles anywhere. It definitely wasn’t a classroom; there were bookcases and shelves full of novels Marinette hadn’t seen before, and some looked more ancient than even this school. She scanned the titles: _Famous Fire-Eaters… Fifteenth-Century Fiends…_ This wasn’t the sort of stuff the library usually had to offer.

Staying silent as mice, the two First Years carefully approached a desk and one of the tables, feeling around in case they knocked something over or walked into something. Marinette shone the dim light from the tip of her wand over the desk and found that there was a dusty collection of books, which looked completely untouched over years, maybe even decades. This place looked suspiciously similar to the school library, but she didn’t recognise this corner of the room, which was strange considering she had spent a lot of time familiarising herself with the nooks and crannies of the library.

Adrien was about to speak up to ask Marinette if she had the faintest clue where they were, when she pointed silently at the red lettering on the inside cover of one of the ancient books: _Property of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Library, Restricted Section._

The two First Years immediately looked at each other with wide eyes, mouths set in a surprised “oh” that clearly communicate that they unanimously understood how much trouble they would be in if they were caught. Quietly, the two communicated that it would be safest to return to the painting and back up into the dungeon, when a rustle of clothing and the slamming of a book stopped them dead in their tracks.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” the familiar voice they recognised as Plagg hissed in a sharp whisper.

“What do you think you’re doing following me?” another voice answered, which they faintly recognised as Professor D’Argencourt, the DADA teacher. The pair tip-toed behind a bookshelf so they were more comfortably hidden and were able to survey the two professors from behind several stacks of books and years’ worth of cobwebs and dust. Plagg had D’Argencourt pushed up against one of the shelves, his wand out and pointed threateningly at his neck. D’Argencourt had one of the ancient-looking books in his hand and seemed relatively unfazed by Plagg’s aggression. Marinette almost gasped but clapped a hand over her mouth, and felt Adrien take her hand securely in his, squeezing for comfort.

“You know I’m keeping an eye on you,” Plagg hissed. “Now tell me what on earth you think you’re doing waltzing around looking for the Miraculous. You’re a bumbling fool if you think Fu hasn’t noticed. That stunt with the three-headed dog almost got you killed, and then Mylène—”

“That old headmaster is a fool,” D’Argencourt spat. “And I would appreciate it if you kept your greasy head out of my business, Plagg. This is _my_ affair.” He made to leave, but Plagg blocked him.

“I’m not done, you fool,” he said, seizing D’Argencourt by the neck like a mother cat with a kitten. The image would have made Adrien laugh out loud, had the circumstances not been as dire. “You’re coming with me. I have questions for you.” Just like that, D’Argencourt dropped his book and squirmed and kicked and cried against Plagg, who had him in a steady hold. With some struggle, the two professors disappeared into the portrait, and there was silence.

Quickly, Marinette and Adrien quickly scrambled towards the book, finding it open with several dog-eared pages that must have been courtesy of Professor D’Argencourt before Plagg caught him. _The Miraculous,_ it said on the old leather cover in faded gold lettering, which was decorated with several strange inscriptions and Chinese symbols that Marinette couldn’t decipher, and that even Adrien had trouble reading. They flipped through it and found pages upon pages of strange symbols and drawings until they reached a page with a ladybug on it that had last been opened. Next to it was a faded picture of a pair of red earrings. On the facing page was a picture of a silver ring with an emerald-green stone.

“The Ladybug Miraculous,” Marinette read quietly, trying to decipher the faded script with the little light they had. “Grants the bearer the power of luck that would aid them in a time of need with the incantation “Felix Leporem,” granting the bearer… Oh, it’s too faded, I can’t read that. A lucky…chair? Lucky charm?”

“Is this what the Miraculous are? A pair of earrings and a ring?” Adrien wondered, thoroughly disappointed. “Headmaster Fu made it sound so dangerous and serious. What’s that one?” he asked, pointing at the ring on the opposite page.

“The Cat Miraculous,” Marinette read, smoothing the page. She brought her wand closer. “Modelled by Goblins after the black cat, the magical embodiment of bad luck. With the incantation, “Cataclysm,” it grants the wearer…the power of destruction…” She shuddered. “The rest is in strange symbols — I can’t read that, I can’t even recognise it. What on earth does this mean? What does it have to do with the mirror?” she wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” Adrien admitted, “but I don’t think we should stay here and find out. It’s dinnertime! We have to go!”

“Oh, Merlin, is it?” she groaned, checking her watch. The pair scrambled to get the book back on the desk, making it look relatively untouched, and quickly ran back up the portrait, saying the password with a new understanding of the word. As the pair walked in thought to the Great Hall, exchanging only rapid, frustrated questions, they were shocked to find the professors all gathered for dinner with party decorations all around them. The ceiling was enchanted with colourful, soundless fireworks, illuminating the golden hall in bright lights. As the pair approached the staff table, they collectively remembered: it was New Year’s Eve!

“Where exactly have you two been?” Professor Tikki asked from her place at the table as the two sat down. Marinette still wasn’t used to eating dinner with the teachers, but Headmaster Fu insisted, when there was only such a small number of them. It felt strangely cozy in such a large, empty hall, but at the moment all Marinette could feel was unease. She didn’t miss that Plagg and Professor D’Argencourt were both absent from their usual seats.

“Uh, happy New Year’s Eve, professors!” Marinette quickly said, feigning a bright smile. “We were just playing Wizard’s chess, we didn’t realise how late it had gotten.”

Headmaster Fu’s eyes widened in delight. “Wizard’s chess? Why, that’s my favourite game right after Exploding Snap!” He smiled fondly. “Well, come on you two; it’s only three hours until midnight! We have no time to waste! Open your crackers and see what you got!” It was only then that Marinette noticed the fake pearl necklace Fu wore or the paper crown Tikki had put gracefully on her pointed hat. She stifled a giggle and handed Adrien one end of her cracker, and they laughed as it popped and emitted a magical sprinkle of golden sparks. A pair of golden ribbons fell onto Adrien’s lap, and he joked that they would go perfectly with his golden locks, before putting them in Marinette pigtails and securing them each with a bow. She blushed for the thousandth time that day, which did not go unnoticed by Professor Tikki and Headmaster Fu.

After several surprisingly enjoyable hours of food, games, and small talk, the two First Years almost forgot completely about their little expedition into the Restricted Section. Marinette for one was enjoying herself immensely, and Adrien was having the first truly enjoyable New Year’s Eve of his life, as he wasn’t alone or at a mandatory dinner with his father and the other cold, pure-blood families. The evening was warm and bright and filled with laughter, and he found himself quickly forgetting about Plagg’s apparent attempt on his life or the three-headed dog or the strange ring they had discovered in the forbidden part of the library.

“Alright, everyone, quiet down…” Headmaster Fu said, finally, clinking his glass with his wand. He cast a silent spell and a magical clock burst into the air, counting down the seconds until the New Year in bright, colourful sparks. “Alright, the countdown begins! Eighty-two, eighty-one, eighty, seventy-nine…”

Adrien and Marinette exchanged a look and almost burst into laughter, listening in amusement until they reached the last few seconds and everyone joined in. Adrien felt strangely warm and included as everyone around the table counted down in joyful unison.

“…four, three, two, one! Happy New Year!”

Marinette turned to Adrien, giving him a bright, tired smile — after all, they’d been awake for ages now, and it was well past their bedtime — as she wished him a happy new year and he did the same, enveloping her in a warm hug. She seemed surprised, as he still hardly showed such affection, especially publicly, but she hugged right back. They made a good team, Adrien and Marinette. This would be a good year.

*

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*


	9. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know this is incredibly super late. I have...no excuse. Gah. But! I graduated and got accepted to a university, which is exciting!  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, and that everything is starting to come together. I reckon three more chapters and Book One is officially finished!!! Exciting!!!
> 
> EDIT: I changed some things! I got a really nice comment from ajewell and I went back and actually made Nino a Hufflepuff!! I thought it suited him way more and I'm way happier with it this way :)

*

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**Chapter Nine: Secrets**

The first of January, Adrien and Marinette met for breakfast with an odd sense of renewed vigour and energy, as well as exhaustion. They had both slept restlessly, both from being up so late the night before, and from the peculiar events that had transpired last night.

“I think D’Argencourt is looking for the Miraculous,” he said in a hushed voice, and Marinette blinked up at him, chewing her croissant and nearly choking on it. “To… uh… kill me.” He shuffled in his seat uncomfortably.

Marinette blinked again. She swallowed.

Well, that certainly hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear.

“That’s why he was in the Restricted Section,” he continued quietly, “and why Plagg was so angry about finding him in there. If they got caught, Headmaster Fu would know they’re up to something. And he said something about Headmaster Fu noticing… or something…”

“What do you think he meant by his stunt with the three-headed dog?” Marinette asked. “Or about Mylène—”

Both of them suddenly froze, understanding full-well what it meant.

Marinette gulped. “If Mylène became that — that werewolf monster because of an Akuma… and if Plagg was telling him it was his fault—”

“Then that means D’Argencourt did that to her—”

“Which means D’Argencourt has Akumas—”

“Which means—” Adrien stopped. “What… what does it mean?”

“It means,” Marinette said with a growing sense of dread, “that D’Argencourt is working for…Hawkmoth,” she said, whispering the last few words. The Great Hall was empty, with no teacher or portrait in sight, but that didn’t ease her caution.

Adrien’s green eyes widened at the name, but he didn’t shush her like Alya or Nino might have. “But what about Plagg?” he asked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in on it, too,” Marinette seethed, thinking of their mean, greasy Potions professor.

“So if D’Argencourt and Plagg both know about this, and he was looking for the Miraculous…” Adrien frowned. “They could be doing it because—”

“Because you’re the Chosen One, Adrien!” Marinette all but exclaimed in realisation. “Think aboutit! Hawkmoth was after… after you,” she said uneasily, not quite sure if Adrien was comfortable discussing the prophecy. She remembered suddenly that Adrien had lost his mother to Hawkmoth, and his excitement that he had apparently been able to see her in the Mirror of Erised. It made her chest feel empty, and she wanted to give him a hug.

But the Slytherin boy looked like he was fine with discussing the prophecy, because the Boy Who Lived still had the same determined look in his eye. So Marinette tried to discard the uneasy feeling in her stomach and swallowed the last of her breakfast.

“So what do we know,” he started, thinking back. “Plagg tried to kill me at the Quidditch match. He’s also a greasy old—”

“Okay, Adrien, we get that,” Marinette interrupted. “D’Argencourt Akumatized Mylène. We don’t know why. But we know that both of them know about the three-headed dog, and both of them know about the Miraculous…”

“Which Fu doesn’t want us to find,” Adrien filled in, “and it has something to do with the Mirror of Erised.” He briefly had a look of longing on his face, and Marinette’s heart broke a little. She suddenly swallowed when she realised he had no clue what she’d seen in the Mirror that day he had tried to show her his mother. She felt her face heat up and quickly cleared her throat.

“Okay. What else…” She frowned, suddenly realising that she still hadn’t told Adrien about what she had discovered in Fu’s office. It was something that had been nagging her for ages, and the guilt was forever growing. She longed to tell him she could purify Akumas, but she knew she couldn’t. She had promised the headmaster.

Marinette silently promised that when all of this was over, she would march up to Fu and demand an explanation if she had to.

The two spent the rest of the day plotting and planning and making up wild theories, but all of it brought them right back where they started. It was useless to try and do any more research in the library, because she knew the Restricted Section was their best bet to finding any answers, but it was too risky to go back. So the two friends spent the last few days of the break playing Wizard’s chess and bouncing ideas off one another, not really getting anywhere.

With the holidays over, and winter slowly melting into spring, the halls of Hogwarts were once again filled with the familiar faces of its hundreds of eager students, and the once-quiet castle was busy with noise and excitement. Some of the older students were already back in the library by the first day, studying for their OWLs and NEWTs at the end of the year, while First and Second Years practiced their simpler charms and finished up the last-minute touches on their homework essays.

It was a familiar atmosphere, bustling and warm, and Hogwarts finally felt like home again.

However, once classes began, time felt like it had been put on a faster pace. Homework had taken them all by force, and suddenly there was very little time for researching the Miraculous or exploring the castle. They still didn’t even know what the Miraculous really were, or why D’Argencourt might want them if he worked for You-Know-Who. All of it was enough to leave Marinette dizzy with all the theories buzzing in her mind. It was even more difficult now that their peers were back in school, because it would be harder than ever to sneak around undetected, and they could no longer talk freely in hallways or the library. It was too dangerous.

However, one day after Herbology, Adrien pulled Marinette aside behind a huge potted plant, narrowly escaping Chloé and Sabrina as the class filed out of the greenhouse.

“They could be curses of some kind,” he whispered, ducking to avoid getting bitten by the giant plant. Marinette had sadly shook her head and pulled her herbology books closer to her chest; after all, if they were cursed, how could the Ladybug Miraculous grant the bearer good luck? But then again, why would anyone willingly wield the power of bad luck with the Cat Miraculous? It made no sense.

Another day, Marinette had been startled out of her class notes by another thought, and harshly whispered to Adrien across the table, “Maybe it’s just an old form of fashion. You know, animal symbolism and charms! In Chinese and a lot of cultures, ladybugs represent good luck. So it could all just be regular charmed jewellery!”

“The ring was made by Goblins, though,” Adrien reminded her. “And wasn’t the—”

He was promptly cut off by Professor Tikki, who bid them be quiet while she demonstrated the many medical properties of a tickling charm.

“I’ve got it!” Adrien had exclaimed another day, after running up to Marinette in the courtyard, catching his breath. “They’re all just superstitions! You know, like how the ladybug represents good luck, and the black cat represents bad luck? They could — I don’t know — be religious objects! Maybe Dark Magic, or even _Satanic!_ That’s why there’s no books on them anywhere except the Restricted Section! They’re dangerous! That’s why Plagg and Professor D’Argencourt were looking for them. And the name Miraculous could mean they cause miracles — like, I don’t know, the miracle of human consciousness—”

Marinette ran a hand through her hair and sighed as her friend rested his hands on his knees, gulping in breaths. “That’s… No, Adrien. No.”

And so, after weeks of fruitlessly going back and forth, the two finally stopped fantasising about what the Miraculous were, and focused instead on their studies as much as they could. Technically, Marinette had the upper hand: she knew she could purify Akumas, although she had no idea why. She had long suspected that the Akumas, the prophecy of the Boy Who Lived, and Hawkmoth — no, _You-Know-Who_ — and, of course, the Miraculous were all connected somehow.

The problem was, she just didn’t know _how_. And it was frustrating beyond belief.

Another problem — one she hadn’t shared with anyone except Alya — was just how close she and Adrien were getting now, and how much her heart couldn’t handle it. It was proving to be a growing issue; the issue regarding her constant stutter and heated blushes around a certain Slytherin friend, but that was neither here nor there. One day, she’d finally sat down and tried to tell Alya about it without mentioning the Restricted Section or the Mirror, although the girl already suspected something was going on ever since Christmas.

“It’s about time you told me about your lover-boy,” Alya sighed, squeezing into a seat at the Ravenclaw table. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed those looks you give him, girl. Uh-uh, don’t even try to deny it!” she added when Marinette defensively raised her hands in protest. The fiery-haired, and fiery-tempered Gryffindor certainly knew how to get something out of someone.

“Alright,” Marinette finally said, her face red, “I give in. I… I think I — might — like him.”

Alya was ecstatic. “I knew it! Oh, this is great! You have to tell him how you feel, Marinette.”

“How you feel about what?” that very same Slytherin boy suddenly asked, sliding into the seat beside the frozen Ravenclaw. Marinette went white as a ghost and stuttered for the rest of the day, and Alya finally understood, with a tired sigh, why this might become a problem.

But Marinette didn’t have time to think about her growing feelings for her gorgeous, clever, kind-hearted, sweet-tempered classmate. She had other things to worry about, and she wasn’t about to acknowledge some silly crush when she had bigger problems going on at the moment.

Merlin, it seemed that her problems would never cease.

Come February, the two First Years still hadn’t figured out anything new, or come up with a plausible solution to anything, and the forever-growing piles of homework meant they still couldn’t snoop around any more. Marinette was constantly exhausted: spending late nights doing research for her never-ending essays, barely scraping by in Potions, and trying to see her friends as much as she could meant that her school life was always packed. Admittedly she hadn’t really talked to Alya in a while, and she was starting to miss everyone.

Every night before she slept she hoped they’d find something. If only there was some clue that could get them closer to the Miraculous, something that Headmaster Fu or Plagg hadn’t mentioned. But, looking over her journal of pathetic notes, there was nothing they hadn’t considered, nothing they had failed to catch. It was just too much of a mystery for them to solve on their own, but it wasn’t about to solve itself.

With renewed determinism, Marinette returned to her homework. At least this was a task she could finish by herself.

*

*

*

“You fool! You haven’t gotten me any closer to getting the Miraculous!”

D’Argencourt wiped the sweat off his brow and rubbed his tired head. The Dark Lord’s anger was rising with each passing month, and so his temper was cut short. The glowing outline of a purple butterfly before his face burned. “I know, Dark Lord. I have failed you.”

“That girl you Akumatized was useless to me.”

“But Plagg has been ruining my plans—”

Hawkmoth’s voice boomed in his head, his rage making D’Argencourt’s Dark Mark glow brighter and burn his skin. “Professor Plagg has been keeping you from exposing yourself to the entire school and getting yourself caught by that fool of a headmaster!”

The DADA teacher gulped. “Dark Lord…”

“You will not disappoint me again. Bring me the Miraculous!”

The Dark Mark disappeared, and the room no longer had an eery purple glow. D’Argencourt gulped and stood up from his desk, shakily looking down at the trunk below his desk. He could still hear the fluttering of Akumas trying to escape.

He had to find the Miraculous, before Fu or Plagg could stop him. He had to find a way to get into that blasted room with that damn three-headed dog and get in through the trapdoor; then he’d be able to find those Miraculous and prove his worth to his master.

But how?

The professor sat back down at his desk, and buried his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do.

He was going to have to take some drastic measures.

He was going to have to go down into the belly of the beast.

*

*

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note for any of you who got confused; the "Dark Mark" in the original HP is the skull and snake that the Death Eaters have, here it's the mark of the purple butterfly outline that shows they have been Akumatized! I imagine that Hawkmoth's followers in this AU willingly allow him to Akumatize them in order to truly become "Death Eaters."
> 
> But, I hear you ask, what about Plagg? Is he a Death Eater? So is he Akumatized?
> 
> ...Well,,,,,, you'll have to find out later!
> 
> Hope you all have an amazing summer x


	10. Suspicions and Speculations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'mmm back again! Bit of a quicker chapter, but more suspense hopefully... 2 more chapters and I think it's a wrap!
> 
> Note again that I changed Nino's House to Hufflepuff! Somebody suggested it and I thought it fit his character way more than Gryffindor. Hope that's not too confusing!!
> 
> As you may have noticed I didn't include the detention and going into the Forbidden Forest...mostly because the unicorn blood wouldn't really be relevant and I don't have a Hagrid counterpart sooooo just ignore that haha.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! x

*

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**Chapter Ten: Suspicions and Speculations**

“…the Sleeping Potion differs from the Draught of Living Death in that the effects are not nearly as drastic. Do not attempt to look it up in your textbooks; this is an advanced potion only taught to NEWT students. And Merlin knows if any of you will be able to handle the subtle art of potion-making until then.”

Plagg droned on, for once seeming very talkative compared to his usual self. After some complaints of his teaching methods Professor Tikki had apparently given him a stern talking-to, which the Gryffindor would have loved to see. Unfortunately now she not only had to sit in the stinky dungeons for an hour, but had to listen to Plagg go on and on about potions in the most disinterested tone possible, in preparation for upcoming exams. All they seemed to do from March to April to May was _study._

It was dull. Duller than dull.

Alya huffed, looking over her textbook one last time, her page open on mild sleep-inducing potions. Most of them were for a good night’s rest and had medicinal properties — none of them were that interesting, to be honest. The only time Alya had trouble sleeping was when she was too excited to not be awake, and that was rare these days.

Nothing seemed to have occurred over the last few weeks. Their accidental trip up to the third floor had been exciting — exactly the type of adventure that she’d expected from Hogwarts, like the stories her dad had told her of his school days here — and Mari and Adrien’s fight against the not-really-a-werewolf had been exciting, too, but she hadn’t really been there to see it.

Alya looked over at her friend beside her. The Ravenclaw was dutifully taking notes, though she seemed a little distracted lately. At first Alya had thought it was just because of her way-too-obvious crush on a certain Boy Who Happened To Live, but now it seemed like something else. Those two were a little too chummy lately — and while Alya wasn’t against it, she found it oddly suspicious. As far as she knew, they weren’t dating, or anything. Why were they suddenly so close?

As for Adrien, he had been bailing out of Quidditch practice with Nino lately, too, which Alya found even more suspect. The young Seeker seemed keen to spend more time with Mari now, too — though whatever it was they talked about or did together, Alya had no idea.

It was starting to bug her.

Alya turned back to Plagg, who seemed to have stopped talking about potions and was muttering about “all this talk of sleeping makes me want to take a cat nap.” She rolled her eyes. As silly as he acted, she knew he was more shrewd than he led on. Ever since the Quidditch match where Adrien had almost fallen to his death, Alya’s suspicions had started to grow. Now, he was asleep in his chair, cheese in his mouth, acting like he wasn’t hiding a secret.

Alya knew better.

She flipped through her potions book in absolute boredom, not paying very much attention until Plagg stood up.

“Professor,” he said in greeting, beady eyes glinting menacingly in the dim light.

“Professor.”

Alya looked and saw Marinette whip her head around to see Professor D’Argencourt enter the classroom, clutching his purple robes anxiously.

“Might I have a word?”

Plagg paused, apparently irritated by the request. Alya raised an eyebrow.

Finally, the Potions professor sighed. “Quickly, then. Get back to your notes,” the professor suddenly announced to the class, and all the First Years frantically turned back down to their books and parchment. Alya gave the two professors a side glance. What was so urgent that they couldn’t wait until after the lesson was over? She looked beside her, but Marinette was already busy scribbling something in her notebook, and Alya was pretty sure it wasn’t potions-related. But she knew that asking her would only get her an unsatisfactory, stuttered response of “nothing!” as it usually did.

Alya didn’t miss, as D’Argencourt was on his way out, that his hand trailed over the table of sample potions that Plagg had brewed for the lesson. He left with a swish of his robes, Plagg hot on his heels. She gave the table a hard look, her gaze lingering on the small vials of potion beside it.

This might actually be exactly what they needed.

She felt bad for stealing, but…

But then again, Plagg had tried to kill her friend, and he wouldn’t miss one small vial, would he?

After class, when she passed the table, her hand slipped out and curled tightly around a vial of Sleeping Potion, quickly hiding it in her robes.

*

*

*

"I think those exams really killed me," Adrien said. "Can someone look for a pulse?"

“Oh, they were fine,” Marinette said, then thought back on their Potions final. “Err, mostly.”

Nino snorted. “Fine? Nah dudes, that was horrendous. That last question on Levitation Charms got me. I can’t remember if—”

“Have you noticed Plagg is acting strange lately?”

Adrien and Marinette both looked up from the books they were shoving into their bags to Alya, wide-eyed. The Ravenclaw immediately started coughing in shock and went beet-red before Adrien mustered an innocent, “What do you mean?” Both First Years quickly checked the hallway for any listeners, but thankfully it appeared mostly empty. It was a good thing they weren’t in the library anymore, or the librarian would have kicked them out.

“Well,” the Gryffindor started, not oblivious to their strange reactions, “he’s been stalking the halls lately, looking really paranoid. He’s been angrier than usual, too. Once after our lesson he barged off, muttering to himself about something. It was bizarre.”

“The greasy old man finally lost it, then,” Nino lamented. “Him and D’Argencourt both, it seems like.”

“D’Argencourt?” Marinette repeated, paling. She and Adrien stole a knowing glance at one another, which Alya didn’t miss.

Nino seemed not to notice. “Oh yeah, haven’t you noticed? He’s been acting weird, too, man. Seems to be terrified of everything nowadays.”

“Really?” Adrien asked, though he knew this much as well.

“Listen, I’ve thought about it, and I think we should investigate,” Alya continued with a weary side-glance at the pair. “We haven’t done anything out of the ordinary lately, and I’m tired of constantly doing homework and going to bed early. _The Owl Post_ hasn’t been that interesting, either. Last week’s headline was about whether eighteen-inch essays were ethical or not — I mean, really? Come on, that’s not journalism! It’s trash! I could pull a better article out of my—”

“I think we get the picture,” Marinette quickly interrupted, silencing the redhead. “But why them?” she asked, her nerves growing by the second. She didn’t want Alya to put herself in danger, especially after their discovery of the professors’ possible links to…You-Know-Who. She wanted to protect her at all costs.

“Well he’s trying to kill Adrien, isn’t he? That’s a story by itself!”

“Alya!” Adrien whispered, eyes wide in fear. “Not so loud.”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Alya, it’s — it’s all really none of our business…” Marinette tried.

Alya gave them a critical look. “Oh, but yes we do have business with them, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” she said, voice growing louder. “They’re our professors, right? And Adrien is our friend! We have a right to know why one of our teachers is trying to kill him. Right? I mean, all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing!”

“That’s…” Marinette didn’t know what to say, and opened and closed her mouth several times. Alya was right, in a way. Maybe it was the Gryffindor in her, but she seemed more fiery and determined than usual.

“And that… _thing_ we found,” she then said in a more serious tone. “We don’t even know why it’s there! And we still haven’t figured out what’s under that trapdoor, have we? I don’t know about you, but it’s been driving me crazy for months. We should look into that!”

Adrien and Marinette exchanged another wordless glance. If only Alya knew the half of it. But of course, they couldn’t tell her.

“I think it’s a bad idea,” Marinette said finally as they reached the door to the courtyard, their usual spot to do homework together. Adrien beside her nodded in agreement. But Alya stood in the doorway, decisively blocking it.

“You guys! When are we going to find some excitement around here, huh?” she questioned, but none of them could answer her. When they said nothing, she let out a noise frustration. “Fine! Be that way. You two—” she started, pointing at Adrien and Marinette. Both of them froze up.

“Us two, what?” Marinette asked finally, feeling dread building up in her chest.

Alya’s eyes narrowed. “You two have been acting weird for ages now. You’re hiding something, I can tell — and I don’t know what it is or why you’re acting so chummy all of a sudden, but don’t think we haven’t noticed. We’re not stupid, you know!”

Marinette felt like a glass of cold water had been splashed in her face, and she blinked in confusion. “W-what?” she said finally. Adrien was in a similar state of shock. Nino said nothing, but he stood by Alya’s side, hanging his head. Apparently he agreed.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about!” Alya snapped, her anger growing. “You’ve been whispering during class, passing notes, sitting together at meals — and you always act like it’s nothing when I ask what’s up!”

“Yeah, dudes,” Nino agreed, seeming agitated as well, though nowhere near as passionate as Alya. “We’re your friends and we deserve to know what’s going on. Is it about that three-headed dog? Is it about Adrien? What is it?”

The Ravenclaw and the Slytherin’s heartbeats threatened to burst of their chests, but they merely looked down in silence. Marinette felt immensely guilty. She hadn’t realised that Alya had noticed, not when she’d been so focused on her own research and adventures with Adrien for so long. When neither said anything, Alya’s frown deepened.

“Don’t you trust me, or something?” she asked.

“Alya, it’s not that—” Marinette started, only to cut herself off.

“Then _what?_ ” Alya asked, growing more and more impatient.

Marinette bit her lip. She looked at the Slytherin beside her. Neither of them had expected this, but they needed to be honest. It was only fair, especially considering what all of them had been through together.

“Okay,” Marinette said finally. “We’ll tell you.”

Alya looked equal parts relieved, annoyed, and intrigued as the Ravenclaw and Slytherin led the two to their usual spot in the courtyard, near the Clock Tower. They sat at the antique fountain outside, where it was unusually empty. Marinette studied the stone eagles that guarded the fountain for a moment, and was reminded of her House animal.

Marinette and Adrien turned to Nino and Alya.

“We’re sorry about being secretive,” he started sincerely. “Really. We just didn’t want to put you in danger or — or hurt you, or something. After that thing with the werewolf we just…”

“We weren’t thinking,” Marinette finished. “It’s not that we don’t trust you…”

“Okay,” Alya said reluctantly. “So then what?”

Marinette and Adrien told them a brief, bumbling explanation of what had happened over the past month or so. They told them about the Mirror of Erised. They told them what they’d overheard from Plagg and D’Argencourt’s conversation in the Restricted Section, and the Akuma that Akumatized Mylène, and their possible link to Hawkmoth.

As though it had been a shared agreement, neither breathed a word about the Miraculous. It seemed too unsure, too strangely personal to share, or perhaps too dangerous. Whatever they were, Fu feared them, and Marinette and Adrien were smart enough to figure out they meant more than what either of them had first thought.

She felt awful for not telling the whole truth, and only hoped Alya would forgive her.

When it was all over, Alya and Nino were silent.

“That’s a lot,” Alya said.

Merlin, she didn’t know how right she was.

*

*

*

“I think we should go back to the third floor,” Alya announced one night after dinner. The Great Hall was mostly empty, with the remains of food and only a dozen or so students left, the rest having long retired to their rooms. Marinette choked on her pudding and Nino slapped her back to help her breathe, before the other three looked at the Gryffindor with disbelief.

Marinette coughed and put her spoon down. “What?! After we figured out Plagg andD’Argencourt might be working with You-Know-Who? Are you serious?”

Nino put his hand on her forehead. “I think you’ve got a fever, Al.”

“No, Nino!” she exclaimed, swatting his hand away and straightening her glasses. She stood up and slammed her hands on the table in excitement. “Don’t you see? This is our chance to catch them! We know more than anybody!”

The Hufflepuff shook his head and pulled her back into her seat. “Uh, no, dude! We’ll get caught immediately, and then what’ll happen to us? We almost got caught after the whole thing with the duel! No way.”

“We’ll be expelled for sure!” Marinette whispered in fear. She could never bear to let her parents down that much. She couldn’t bear to let herself down, not after discovering her true home at Hogwarts.

“I agree,” said Adrien, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. “It’s a bad idea… I mean, my life is on the line, isn’t it?” he feebly joked. Nobody laughed.

“We don’t know what’s under the trap-door!” said Alya. Adrien and Marinette had a pretty good idea, but stayed silent.

“It’s a bad idea,” Adrien said again.

“ _You’re_ a bad idea!” said Alya, pointing her spoon in his face. “Alright, fine. What can we do, then? You’re in danger, sunshine boy.”

“Sunshine boy?” Adrien asked.

Marinette was in thought. “We could go to Headmaster Fu,” she piped up suddenly.

Nino gave her finger guns. “Now _that’s_ a good idea, dude! Truly a Ravenclaw.”

“We should go _now,_ ” Alya agreed, and Marinette nodded as they jumped up and ran out of the great hall.

The two boys exchanged looks, before groaning and standing up to chase after their girls.

*

*

*

“We have to see Headmaster Fu immediately!”

Professor Tikki looked up at the four students that had barged into her office, perplexed. She put her red spotted quill down from the homework she was grading and gave them all a serious look.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, Mr Agreste,” she said to them all in turn, “Mr Lahiffe, Miss Césaire. Why in Merlin’s name are you in my office at this hour?”

“We have to see Headmaster Fu!” they repeated in unison. Professor Tikki gave them another look. They were all out of breath, their uniforms scruffy, and hair flying out of place. They must have run all the way here.

“I’m afraid Headmaster Fu isn’t here,” she told them. “He received an urgent Owl from the Ministry of Magic. Minister Bourgeois evidently required his immediate assistance.” If the matter hadn’t been as important, Marinette would have noted the dislike in her voice as she spoke of the minister. Apparently he wasn’t as popular as Chloé claimed.

“But we need to see him now—” she pleaded.

“It’s urgent!” Alya finished.

“I’m sure it can wait a while longer,” Professor Tikki said. “Now, all of you, please return to your Common Rooms before curfew. You know we have a strict policy against being out of bed after lights out,” she reminded them.

“But—”

“Marinette,” she said kindly. “Please, don’t worry. The headmaster will return soon. When he does, you four will be the first I notify. Now off to bed.”

The four of them stood, still catching their breath, and silently walked out of their office as the Charms teacher gave them a stern look. They shut the door behind them with a click and let out sighs of disappointment.

“She’s tough, but fair,” Nino said, as they skulked through the dark hallway.

“We only have ten minutes until curfew,” Adrien reminded them, using his wand to cast a time spell in midair. “What do we do now?”

Marinette shook her head. “Why would Headmaster Fu leave school now?” she wondered. “With Plagg and D’Argencourt acting so suspicious… He must know what’s going on! We don’t have any time to waste!”

“It can’t be a coincidence that Fu is away,” Adrien said. “Remember what Plagg said to D’Argencourt? About Fu noticing what he’d been doing?”

“What if they know Headmaster Fu is away, and are going there right now?” Alya said in realisation. “We need to stop them!”

The other three agreed as they made their way to the flying staircases.

“We have to go back to the third floor,” Marinette finally said in a low voice. The other three leaned down to listen intently, feeling quite like co-conspirators. _“…tonight.”_

“Tonight,” they agreed.

“How will we get past the dog?” Adrien asked suddenly. “You couldn’t even find anything about them in the library, right, Mari?”

“I’d thought of that,” Alya said, producing a small vial out of her robes. “You know how in Potions we were learning about a Sleeping Potion? Well, I might’ve taken some, just out of interest.”

The others gave her a look of approval and admiration. “That’s so clever of you, Al,” Marinette said, looking at the small vial of potion in wonder. “How will we get it to drink it, though?”

“Leave that to me,” Alya said, hiding the potion in her robes again.

Adrien nodded. “Alright. We trust you.” He looked at his three friends. “Let’s meet at the staircase at midnight. Bring your wands, and whatever happens, stay out of sight.”

Fear and excitement set the four First Years’ eyes alight and stayed with them all as they scurried off towards their respective Houses, waiting until the clock struck twelve. Tonight everything would be clear.

They couldn’t fail.

*

*

*

“It worked. Minister Bourgeois proves as easy to manipulate as ever.”

D’Argencourt let himself breathe a sigh of relief. Getting Headmaster Fu out of the way had been easier than he’d expected, especially since the old man had apparently been suspicious of him for quite some time. Plagg hadn’t been any help whatsoever since what had happened in the Restricted Section — where he hadn’t dared return for the time being, not since the Potions professor had refused to leave him alone for the past few weeks.

“You were right, master. Plagg was most helpful, Dark Lord," he lied.

“Good. Now you cannot fail me again.”

“Yes, Dark Lord,” he said obediently.

“Bring me the Miraculous!"

“Yes, Dark Lord.”

And just like that, the butterfly insignia flared out in purple and disappeared, leaving the room dark. D’Argencourt waited until well after the students had gone to bed and slipped on his cloak, sneaking off into the dead of night, wand at his side.

He couldn’t fail.

*

*

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suspense!!!!!!!


	11. Down the Rabbit-Hole

*

*

*

**Chapter Eleven: Down the Rabbit-Hole**

At a quarter to midnight, the four First Years excitedly ripped off their bedding and put on their shoes, before scurrying out of their Common Rooms, careful not to wake any of their roommates. Adrien and Nino met at the grand staircase, as Adrien was coming out of the dungeons and Nino from the kitchens, so the two boys exchanged a hushed greeting and linked arms, tentatively making their way to the moving staircases.

Alya was there, her red hair glowing in the low candlelight, and she lit up at the sight of them. The boys rushed over.

“Have you seen Marinette yet?” she asked them.

“No, we would’ve thought she’d be with you,” they replied, and anxiously checked their watches. It was two minutes to midnight.

The Ravenclaw, in question, was in her Common Room, looking pale, hands up defensively. Her gaze was pinned on a chair across the room.

“Nathaniel,” she whispered, anxious not to wake anyone else up. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“N-neither should you,” he replied, standing up. He was in his pyjamas, which were decorated with what looked like tiny superheroes. “You’re s-s-sneaking out, aren’t you? I heard you guys t-talking.”

Marinette cringed. He’d found her out. Hopefully he hadn’t told any of the teachers. Knowing Nath, he wouldn’t have. “Nathaniel, listen—”

“N-no, Marinette! You’ll get all of us in t-t-trouble! We’ve lost enough House points a-as it i-is,” he said, his voice growing in volume.

“You don’t understand. I have to go—”

“No, M-Marinette,” he said with more finality, “I won’t let you.”

Marinette sighed and mustered up some courage, thinking of Alya and what she might do. Knowing Alya, she’d cause a ruckus. Nino might try to persuade them, like a true friend would. Adrien… She had no idea what Adrien would do. He’d be the most considerate of all, probably.

But the clock struck twelve, and Marinette didn’t have time to be considerate.

“Nathaniel, I’m really, really sorry about this,” she said, taking out her wand and waving it with expert precision. “Petrificus Totalus!”

The red-haired boy froze, quite literally, and fell to the floor, his blue eyes wide in shock. Marinette knelt over him and lifted him up to a chair, with a quick kiss on the cheek as an apology. She shut the door as quietly as she could, and bolted.

Five minutes past midnight, she arrived, out of breath, and severely guilty.

“Girl! Where were you?” Alya hissed at her, although she was obviously pleased nothing had happened to her friend.

Marinette gulped in a breath and quickly told them what had happened in the Ravenclaw Common Room. The other three listened with wide eyes, and no one said anything, and Marinette felt more guilty than ever, until Nino said:

“You’re a little scary sometimes. You know that, right?” he asked with a gulp, and the other three laughed.

“Well, come on, let’s go!” Adrien then whispered, and quickly they went up the staircase. They waited until it moved up to the third floor landing, and, checking behind them that they were alone, ran into the dark, forbidden corridor.

The four First Years came to a halt in front of the door, and found it was open.

“Plagg must have gone inside already,” they reasoned. Tentatively, they shuffled inside, closing the door behind them.

Inside the small, cramped chamber was the three-headed dog, fast asleep.

“What on earth?” Nino whispered, and Marinette wordlessly pointed over to a harp in the corner. It was playing, but there was no one playing it — Plagg must have enchanted it to make the dog fall asleep. She had no idea how he’d figured that out, but apparently it was working. There was no telling how long Plagg had been down there, or how long the dog had been asleep, but they needed to act quickly. Her eyes darted around the room. The trapdoor under it was closed.

Silently, she motioned over to her friends to follow her, and tried to pry open the trapdoor. It was heavier than she thought, and the four of them heaved to get it open.

The heavy wooden door smacked against the floor with a bang, and the dog let out a heavy snore. They all froze for a moment, then looked at one another and breathed a collective sigh of relief, until Nino felt something drop on his shoulder. He slowly lowered his gaze and found a slimy lump of saliva. He wiped it off with a disgusted face, when another drop landed directly on his hand. Slowly, he looked up, and found the three-headed dog baring its teeth, inches from his face. He could feel its hot breath and feel the low growl through his bones.

“Uh, guys,” he said, slowly walking back, away from the creature.

Marinette looked behind her. The harp seemed to have stopped playing, and now there was no way to make it fall asleep again. She spied Nino’s headphones. “Nino, play it a song!” she whispered over to him, fearfully looking up at the dog.

“Oh yeah? A song? What’ll it be, techno beats or heavy metal? I don’t think that will rock it to sleep, Marinette!”

“Sleep!” Adrien whispered in realisation. “Alya, the Sleeping Potion!”

Alya caught his eye and nodded, quickly reaching into her robes and producing the vial. “But how will we get it to drink it?”

“It’s a standard Sleeping Potion, right? It doesn’t need to drink it!” Adrien whispered. “Remember what Plagg said in class? Sleeping Potions can be administered other ways! Just drop it on its nose or something, it’ll breathe it in!”

“Got it! Cover your mouths!”

Marinette fully expected Alya to use a helpful Wingardium Leviosa to get her to sprinkle the potion on the dogs, or maybe to lift the potion out of the vial itself and then onto the dog, but she didn’t expect her to just chuck the entire potion at it. The glass shattered against the middle dog’s head, sprinkling potion all over the three snouts. One of the dogs sneezed, one shook its head a few times, and slowly, one by one, their massive eyelids began to droop. It growled once, let out a small mewl, and then fell to the floor in a sleepy daze.

They watched the sleeping dog, and then looked at Alya with admiration.

“Not what I expected,” Marinette said honestly, carefully walking over to the trapdoor and the sleeping dogs. “But it worked!”

The Gryffindor beamed. “Well, let’s go!” She was the first to jump through the trapdoor, followed quickly by Nino, and Adrien and Marinette shared a look and climbed through together. But when they didn’t land on hard, stone floor, like she’d expected, and sat instead on a lumpy, strange bed of vines and leaves, Marinette froze in surprise.

The underground chamber was almost too dark to see, and she couldn’t make out more than two or three feet directly in front of her. She could hear Nino struggling a few feet ahead, and Alya was cursing up a storm, struggling against the vines. Before she knew it, they had a strong grip around her waist and ankles, and she was almost engulfed up to her neck in the rope-like plants. Marinette gulped and tried to look ahead.

“What the bloody hell is this!” Alya screamed.

“We’re going to die,” Nino lamented.

Adrien was silent, trying in vain to free himself from the vicious plants. Each time he got a limb out, it tightened its grip around him, until he felt he was suffocating.

Marinette was thinking as fast as she could.

“Oh, what did Professor Wayzz say?” she said to herself. They must have seen these in Herbology before… There could only be so many types of deadly vines… But what was this…?

“Professor Wayzz? Is this the time to do your homework, Marinette?” Nino asked incredulously.

“Herbology, you spanner!” Alya shot back.

“Oh! I’ve got it! Devil’s Snare… Oh, what was it… Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare. It doesn’t like light? No — it’s fun, and likes damp—”

“Get some water on it, then!”

“Shut up, Nino, let her think!”

Marinette gasped. “I got it! Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare. It’s deadly fun, but will sulk in the sun!” She turned to where she thought Alya was. “Alya, remember how you set fire to Plagg’s robes?”

“Uh, yeah!” came the enthusiastic response.

“Do it again!”

Alya fought against the vines to reach for her wand, and muttered a soft incantation, and sent cold, blue flames across the chamber. Instantly the plants loosened their hold and let the other three fall to the floor below. Marinette landed on her hands and knees, taking a sharp intake of breath at the sudden pain. Adrien beside her landed on his bottom, and Nino and Alya quickly followed.

“Neat trick, right? Bluebell flames,” Alya said, rubbing her aching back from the fall. “Dad taught me that.”

“Very useful, pyromaniac,” Nino muttered. “I thought I was gonna die there, for a second!”

“Good thinking, Mari,” Adrien said with a relieved smile. He looked around the dark chamber, and took out his wand. “Lumos!” Light erupted from the tip, and lit up the room. The stone walls were bare, with only one door.

As the four of them approached the door and used Alohomora to make it swing open, Alya took out her wand and cast Lumos as well.

“Wait a minute, why didn’t we just use Lumos against the Devil’s Snare?” Nino then asked. “If it hates sunlight so much. We didn’t need to set everything on fire!”

“Uh, because I didn’t think of it,” the Ravenclaw said with an embarrassed cough, and Alya laughed.

“Well, we’re alive, aren’t we? That’s all that matters,” Alya said with a nudge.

A downwards sloping staircase lead them into another chamber that was far larger than the other one, brilliantly lit with golden light, with an impossibly high ceiling, and one door opposite them.

Marinette approached the door and tried Alohomora. It didn’t open. She trailed a finger along the large silver lock with curiosity — it must have been enchanted.

“We need a key,” she told everyone, looking around the walls and the floor for anything.

“Uh, you might want to look up,” Nino said, pointing at the ceiling, and Marinette squinted upwards to see hundreds of flying insects of some sort, flitting and fluttering about the room, lightning-quick.

“What kind of birds are those?”

Adrien smiled. “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s—”

“The key!” Marinette gasped, pointing up and hopping excitedly. “Look! The silver one with the broken wing! That must be it!” She gripped her wand and concentrated, pointing it upwards. “Accio!” The key stubbornly didn’t budge, and instead fluttered off unevenly, its broken wing making it stand out against all the others. She sighed in frustration. “How do we get up there?”

“Would this help?” Adrien asked, pointing at a broomstick hovering in the centre of the room.

“Go on then, Mr Seeker.”

With uncertainty, Adrien held the broom, and mounted it with ease. He gripped it tightly, hand outstretched to catch the key. He kicked himself off the floor and flew upwards steadily, trying to gain confidence, with the burning knowledge that all his friends were looking at him expectantly. They were all counting on him. He shook his head to gain his thoughts and his trained Seeker eyes darted around quickly, trying to find the correct key. There! The one with the broken wing.

Adrien leaned forward on the broom to gain speed, and zoomed over the high ceiling of the room to follow it. It was just like a game of Quidditch: he just had to catch the key. It was harder than finding the Golden Snitch, actually; there were hundreds of colourful keys here, fluttering about as if waiting to be caught, but he had to keep his eye on the right one.

There it was! By the stone pillar! He zoomed forward, momentarily relishing the familiar wind blowing his hair out of his face and rustling his robes, the rush of adrenaline as he plunged downward, trying to keep up with the enchanted key. He lost it for a second, but found it again way below him, and zoomed downwards, almost vertically. It was right there! He just had to get it!

Adrien stretched his arm out, fingers tensed, and made to grab at it, and — yes! He quickly raised his arm to wave at his friends, and almost lost his balance.

“Got it!” he yelled, and his friends gave an excited applause. He breathed several sighs of relief and dismounted with shaking limbs, and all but shoved the key into the lock. It gave a satisfying click, and the door opened with a creak.

“Great job, Adrien!” Marinette exclaimed, rushing over to give him a hug. Adrien wordlessly returned the embrace, still a little shaken from the flight, and stuttered out a breathless “thanks,” and Mari was already rushing into the next chamber. Adrien, Nino, and Alya followed behind, only to quickly skid to a halt to avoid colliding with Mari, who stood looking over the room looking as pale as a ghost.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Marinette groaned. “Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

“What is it?” Adrien asked, anxiety growing, and he stepped closer to the centre of the room. There were pieces of rubble and stone scattered around the floor, and what looked like pieces of a suit of armour, but it was so dark he almost couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Someone behind him cast a Lumos Maxima, and the dark chamber quickly erupted with light, illuminating the figures that stood in front of them.

“Oh,” he said in surprise, realising he was face-to-face with a human-sized black pawn.

“Wait a second.” Nino walked about the room, his demeanour changing completely. He was looking at the chess pieces critically, sizing up the amount of pieces. He then took in the floor, which was a giant chessboard. They were on the black side. “It’s all a game of Wizard’s chess.” Adrien retreated to Nino’s side, giving him a questioning look.

“Then what’ll we do?” he asked.

“We play, of course,” Nino said. He looked around the room again, taking note of the empty spots. “Alya, you be that pawn at the end,” he directed pointing to the empty space. “Marinette, you be a rook. Adrien, you’ll be the bishop. And I…” He looked up at the empty seat on the massive stone horse. “I’ll be a knight.” He clambered up, holding on to the black stone reins.

They got to their assigned positions, completing the chess game beginner’s positions, but when nothing happened Alya glanced back at Nino.

“Now what?” she asked, her voice echoing through the chamber.

“Well,” Nino said, trying not to let his fear show, “white begins the game. Then we’ll play. We have to checkmate their king.” He put on a brave face. “But I don’t know how we’ll…” He trailed off.

“Nino,” Adrien called. “You should direct the moves. You’ve played and won this game a million times. You’re our best shot at winning.”

Alya nodded. “We trust you.”

Nino gulped nervously, grateful as ever for his friends, and took in a deep, sobering breath. Suddenly a white pawn moved forward two spaces by itself. The game must be enchanted, too. That meant…

Experimentally, he said, “Pawn to F5,” and the black pawn moved forward two spaces. The white pawn then violently slashed the black pawn into pieces, and it crumbled on the floor. Marinette began to tremble.

“We’ll just have to be careful,” Nino assured them. “I won’t let anything happen to you guys. Okay. Let’s play.”

Nino spent several minutes on each of the moves, even though planning chess moves was like second nature to him now, after playing against all his sisters at home and even besting Adrien at it hundreds of times. Still, he wanted to be careful. This was life-or-death. He avoided moving Marinette, Alya, or Adrien as much as possible, trying to use the other chess pieces whenever he could.

When half their pieces were gone and crumbled amongst the rubble, Nino weighed his options heavily. He had two options, now, and neither of them good. Adrien’s bishop could take the remaining white knight from here, but then he’d be in danger. Or…

“Nino, what are you thinking?” Adrien called behind him.

The Hufflepuff didn’t answer. Nothing mattered to him now as much as protecting his friends.

“I’m going to move,” he told Adrien, “and when I do, you can checkmate them.”

He directed the move that moved his knight forward, right in front of the white queen. She raised two swords above her head.

“Nino, no!” Alya yelled in horror, making to run off but Adrien yelled, “No, Alya, stay put!” He blinked back the sudden tears of fear and worry that were prickling in his eyes. “He’s got to do this.”

Nino didn’t say anything, didn’t exclaim, as the swords swooped over him and broke the horse in half, and he fell to the floor with a dull thud. His eyes were closed.

“Nino!” Alya cried, but he didn’t respond.

Adrien slowly moved diagonally across the board, until he stood in front of the white king.

“Checkmate,” he said, although it wasn’t necessary, for the doors at the far end of the room had swung open.

Quickly, Adrien, Alya and Marinette rushed to Nino’s side, but he was unconscious. Alya slapped his face to try and wake him up but it was no use.

“He sacrificed himself,” Alya sniffed, holding him close. “He’s my oldest friend… We can’t let him die.”

“He won’t,” Adrien said, his tone certain, despite his own doubts.

“I’ll stay with him,” Alya said after a moment. She looked up at Marinette and Adrien with tear-stained eyes. “You guys go on ahead. I’m not leaving him alone.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you,” Marinette said.

Alya nodded. “You guys are clever. You’re brave. You’ll be fine. I want to stay here to make sure he’s okay. We’ll get out of here as soon as we can and find help.”

The three exchanged a look, and Marinette and Adrien slowly stood up, dusting their robes off. Somehow, along the way, they’d gotten scrapes and bruises all over their bony arms and legs, and Adrien was even bleeding from the lip. Marinette’s knees were still red and bloody. They looked terrible, but at least the worst seemed to be over.

When they reached the massive open door, Marinette reached for Adrien’s hand for comfort. He hold on tightly, his knuckles turning white, and the they moved on to the next chamber. The door swung shut behind them with a sense of finality.

Marinette and Adrien slowly walked through a dark hallway, lit dimly by their wands. Their footsteps echoed through the stone corridor, bouncing eerily off the walls. At the end of the corridor was a stone staircase, and they slowly walked downwards, wands at the ready for the next challenge or task that would try to stop them.

What they found, instead, was a large, dark room, with the familiar gold frame of the Mirror of Erised standing proudly in the centre.

In front of it stood Professor D’Argencourt, his face lit by the purple glow of a butterfly.

*

*

*

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I don't know if I'll do each year group, or follow the original plot exactly or loosely. Please leave any criticisms or comments, and feel free to ask me any questions!


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